Highschool of the Dead: Cub of the Wolfpack
by CharlesWatch220
Summary: The Umbrella Security Service was the black ops unit sieved by hellish training tasked with carrying out secret missions in order to protect the interests of the company. Their Delta Team, aka "The Wolfpack" survived the outbreak in Raccoon City after being betrayed. Now, long after their enemy perished, they must survive the reanimated nightmare that has come back from the graves.
1. Retrieval of G

Hello to all readers and writers around the world that utilizes this website to make/watch your favorite fan fiction unfold. This is something that I have worked on in Japanese on a different website (which is currently on a hiatus due to college stuff), a crossover fiction of Highschool of the Dead and Resident Evil, specifically Operation Raccoon City. The first few posts will be like an extended flashback before relocating to Tokonosu where chapter 2 of the outbreak begins.

This is my first time attempting this in English, so I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did translating it to the best of my abilities.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fan based crossover. The Resident Evil franchise and Highschool of the Dead belong to its respective owners. I own nothing except the writing posted here. Please support the official release.

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1998 September XXth

The Umbrella Corporation is a titanic international conglomerate as a player in the market of not only pharmaceuticals and medication but the research and development of medical appliances, among other consumer products. It was named as such for the company's ultimate goal to be the shield of mankind.

But this is nothing but a mask, a public front. Under the front of humanitarian goals, they perform inhumane experiments and operations on human beings as well as research and develop bio organic weaponry. With the profits reaped from the public and the buyers of the weapons, Umbrella has extended its influence over the masses as well as the underworld.

However, no matter how successful, corporations are run by men and men are fallible. One day, a video clip containing the effects of a highly contagious pathogen known as the T-Virus was leaked from Raccoon City located in the Midwest of the United States. In order to control the situation, Umbrella committed their unit of paramilitary operatives known as the Umbrella Security Service to destroy the evidence and to eliminate any survivors.

What the USS were not informed of was that Umbrella was planning to deploy BOWs into the fray as well in order to procure live combat data.

The seven men and women clad in black tactical gear all armed to the teeth with M4A1s and Beretta M92FSs. On top of that, all of them had at least half of their faces covered with gas masks, making them look fittingly as the harbingers of death. This is the Delta team of the USS, also known as "The Wolfpack".

"This is command. Are you receiving me? A voice of a man sounded over their communicators.

A tall woman with a husky voice responded with an accented voice, "Command, this is Lupo. We are receiving you loud and clear."

"Good. Your mission is to provide support to Alpha team that has been dispatched before you. You will rendezvous with their squad leader Hunk and you are authorized to engage any and all threats."

"Copy that. Wolfpack, move out." With Lupo taking the lead, the Wolfpack entered a hidden passage beneath the factory belonging to Umbrella where a research facility was located. While they moved, none of them uttered a word, only double-checking the chamber of their weapons and doing simple stretches that can be done even while walking. As they advanced, they halted in front of a thick door reinforced with steel which had the logo of Umbrella in the center.

"Alpha leader, we're in position."

"Copy. Stand by." A deep, raspy voice replied.

The owner of the voice which was out of place belonged to a child, a boy at the end of the line who was two heads shorter than all the rest. The six men and women in front of him all turned their heads and looked at him, the reproach clear in their eyes. "What?" The boy met their gaze with a disapproving look, "We're all attached to the same unit. Who gives a damn about who gives the status report?"

One of the men, the largest of the group, who had a metal prosthetic limb gave the boy a nudge with his knuckles as he snorted "What makes you think that a unit with a niño pequeño like you would be taken seriously?"

"Says the human target who got his ass owned by that niño pequeño during a training session for urban guerrilla warfare."

Just as those words left the boy's mouth, the doors slid open and revealed a man clad in black tactical gear, a helmet and a gas mask, armed with a rifle. "You guys must be the new Delta team. Report." His deep, raspy voice emanated power, his presence strong and cold as ice, unyielding like folded steel. This was Hunk, whose name, face and background is shrouded in mystery.

"Call me Four Eyes. At your service." The Asian woman with black hair that just reaches her shoulders deadpanned. Following her, they all introduced themselves.

"My name is Bertha. Ready to play." The blond woman with her hair in a bun gave a nod. Besides her sidearm, she had several medical tools strapped to her thighs along with a machete.

"Vector here. Good to see you again, sir." The man wearing a full gas mask and a hooded coat gave deep bow as he greeted the Alpha team leader. Hunk responded with a simple nod.

"Spectre here…All set." The man who called himself Spectre spoke quietly with a tone sounding rather lethargic. His goggles which were fully customized himself zoomed in and out as it focused on Hunk's face.

"Name's Beltway. Nice to meet ya, 'Mr. Death'." The man who nudged the boy gave a small wave as he snickered slightly. As the only one looming over his team, he was carrying some extra equipment in his pack.

"Call me Lupo. Delta team squad leader." She held out a hand which Hunk took and shook it once, firmly.

"I heard a kids voice over my comms. Where's he?"

"Right here." The boy gave a forceful shove at Beltway's leg to get in front of him. "I'm Viper."

Hunk looked at Viper as if he were trying to valuate the boy's combat proficiency. "If he can fight, I don't give a damn about age. He falls behind, and he stay behind." He spat indifferently. "Command, I've rendezvoused with Delta team."

"Understood. Now find Birkin and secure those samples. Failure is not an option."

"You heard him, let's move." At Hunk's signal, the Wolfpack started towards the elevator and descended lower into the facility. "We're entering the lab of Dr. William Birkin —-an Umbrella scientist attempting to sell classified samples of a weaponized virus strain to the U.S. government."

"You mean Umbrella's T-Virus?" Lupo inquired.

"No. This is a new gene-altering compound Birkin's developed called the G-Virus. It's significantly more powerful and he's in possession of the only known samples. There's a detachment of Umbrella's Biohazard Countermeasure Service on site who will likely try to protect him. They are unaware of this operation and are considered expendable."

"Aren't we on the same team? Can't we just…you know, pick up the phone and call them to get the fuck outta our way?" Beltway asked jokingly.

Hunk responded without so much as a stifled chuckle. "The UBCS are just mercenaries; they can be bought. We can't assume their loyalty to the company."

"So just to clarify, our objective is to intercept Birkin and secure the samples, right?" Viper verified as he adjusted the flashlight and laser pointer on his Beretta.

"Yes."

The elevator ceased its descent and the doors silently slid open.

"Secure the route. Move." Hunk punched in a sequence of numbers on a keypad several feet away from the elevator opening the shutters. Lupo and Vector took the lead. As they descended several flights of stairs, they heard a chorus of machines humming. Most of them were connected to giant capsules housing grisly monsters doused in a culture solution.

"So these are the new batches of BOWs? Intriguing. I'd like samples." Four Eyes' fingers longingly stroked the capsules as she walked around them, observing every inch of the BOW from every possible angle.

"Get down!" Spectre yelled as he looked down on the screen mounted on his right arm. Moments later, the lights in the room they infiltrated snapped on. Gunfire and the sound of bullets ricocheting off everything flooded the room.

"UBCS! All units, weapons live! Spectre, give me a head count!" Lupo shouted over the cacophony of gunfire. She returned fire towards the locations she saw muzzle flashes.

"Done. We have twenty strong in the room. Tactical advantage is ours in terms of being on higher ground, but there are stairs which lead to our six. I need to find better vantage point. Viper, cover me."

"Aww, come on. I'd rather take them apart with blades." Viper whined, but he knew that this was not the time for discussion, and although reluctantly, he covered Spectre's blind spots as they moved through the gunfire.

The members of the UBCS are comprised of ex paramilitary personnel, war criminals who are borderline terrorists and the like due to the nature of their work. As individuals they may be relatively formidable, but they stood no chance against the single impenetrable unit consisting of highly trained soldiers specializing in different fields like the Wolfpack. They all fell, one by one.

"Okay, this is starting to get boring as shit. Time Crisis on hard mode's more challenging." Viper baited out a UBCS operative whilst protecting Specter who focused on placing well-aimed sniper fire where it was needed, effectively covering his comrades' blindspots.

"Do me a favor and shut up, I can't concentrate with you bitching like so." Despite his complaints, there was nothing wrong with Spectre's aim. He lined up the reticle smoothly and pulled the trigger rhythmically, taking one man down with one shot to the head.

Noticing the sniper, the remaining UBCS operatives laid down suppressive fire at the two as they dove behind cover. While they were pinned down, two operatives made their way up to them, cutting off their escape. "Beltway, if you would be so kind?"

"I gotcha covered right here, baby. Get ready for a big BANG!" Beltway guffawed at Spectre's request. After several seconds, there was a large pop like the cork shooting out of a large of champagne followed by an explosion. Beltway blew the smoke out from the barrel of the grenade launcher attached to his rifle the forty millimeter grenade round tore them to shreds along with their cover. On the off chance that they survived, they would be in no condition to fight. "Whoo! Whaddaya think of my custom made exploding incendiary grenade rounds, Spectre? Ain't they a beauty?"

Spectre couldn't help but smile under his gas mask. Both Beltway and he are birds of a feather, and are skilled in this line of work, which put them on good terms. "Superb destructive force, Beltway. Thank you. Viper, get the leftovers."

"Spasibo," Viper muttered his gratitude in Russian as he unslung his rifle and set it down next to Spectre. He tossed a stun grenade to the left side where two men were closing in. Before that wen off, he spun around drawing his side arm and dropping the man on the right. Five full metal jacket rounds pierced the bullet proof vest and his heart and the final round pierced the kevlar helmet and his brain.

Once the stun grenade detonated, Viper ran towards the discombobulated pair, keeping his head down to avoid stray bullets. As he smoothly drew a pair of knives from his vest and left hip, he tackled one man by tackling and head butting him in the groin. Slipping through his legs he severed the achilles tendon. The man screamed in pain as he fell to his knees which was cut short as a blade tore through the hollow of his nape, destroying the brainstem and cutting the scream short.

Using that body as a shield, Viper put a bullet in the UBCS operative's knee who was firing his weapon all over the place, blind and deaf. Once his weapon was empty, Viper flung one of the knives at him which pierced the soft flesh of the throat. "God, I love my job," Viper exhaled as he pulled the knife out and was showered in the dead man's blood. He then proceeded to twist his neck and snapped the spine for good measure before cleaning the blades off.

The gunfire had ceased by then, and Lupo was giving the all clear signal, motioning everyone to regroup. In front of Lupo was a soldier, bleeding from every kind of wound imaginable.

"Kid, where were you before USS?" Hunk asked, surprised to see the child of all people survive the skirmish.

"Some slum in South America as a child soldier. There was this drug kingpin who had an ex-special forces guy that trained me for urban and guerrilla warfare. They're dead now so here I am. Why?"

"Your movements seemed refined is all."

"How many men are posted here?" The man's throat had closed up in fear as he eyed Lupo's bloodstained tomahawk. They outnumbered these intruders roughly three to one, and yet in a short amount of time they were defeated. He knew that whether he talked was irrelevant; he will die soon.

Lupo, whose patience wore thin quickly, flicked her eyes at Viper, who nodded and crouched down matching the man's eye level. "We don't have time to screw around here, so I'll let you choose. Talk, and I'll give you a clean death. Refuse, and Bertha here will extract or excise….things." He glanced meaningfully down at the man's lower half of the body. "Without anesthesia, I might add."

"I-I don't know! That's the truth! Birkin just scrounged up as many as he could and paid us to protect him! C'mon kid, let me go! I can….I can help you! Let me help you, please!"

"Shut it." Viper's knife tore through the lower jaw and the palate, piercing the brain, instantly killing him.

"Doesn't matter how many there are. Let's move."

"Hunk, we've got a location on Dr. Birkin. HE's just entered his lab. Get in there and obtain those virus samples!" The USS Command's voice crackled over their earpieces.

"Roger, Command. Proceeding to Birkin's lab. Stay focused. He's already set up an exchange with the U.S. military. We will run into special operatives before this is over."

"Ooh, what kinda 'special' we talkin' here? Green berets? SOCOM? SEALS?"

Lupo delivered a swift and unceremonious kick to Beltway's shin for his unreserved question. "That is irrelevant, Beltway."

"We can kill them, right, Alpha Leader?" Viper looked expectantly at Hunk.

"If we make contact with them, then yes. Unless they are obstructing our route to success, save your ammunition. We are only here for Birkin and the virus, nothing more. You ought to have learned by now that killing everything in your wake is not the only way to do things. Still green around the gills I see, baby snake."

Viper scowled under the gas mask at Hunk's bluntness, but even he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"He's been like that since I first started training under him, and he is not an easy man to impress." Neither Vector's words nor his light slap on the back gave Viper any comfort as he clicked his tongue in anger and fell back in line.


	2. Containment

The Wolfpack continued to back Hunk up as they mowed down more UBCS operatives advancing quickly through the narrow corridor. The second they entered the excessively large lounge where computer servers were lined up against the wall, red lights began to flash rapidly accompanied by an alarm. _"Emergency! There has been a security breach. Avoid contact with unauthorized personnel! Repeat: There has been a security breach. Avoid contact with unauthorized personnel!"_

Viper sighed upon hearing the announcement. "Did we take a burn? Please don't tell me we took a burn, we're better than this."

Hunk shook his head. "Impossible; that's not us. We're using authorized access. We might have company."

The buzzer kept sounding off as they pressed on and ended up to one of the labs. Four Eyes walked up to one of the computer terminals and started tapping away at the keys.

"Whatcha doin', Four Eyes?"

"Salvaging." She replied flatly, and continued to work without so much as a glance towards Viper as she started copying the files into a disk.

"I highly doubt there's anything worth the trouble. If Birkin's retarded enough to leave information lying around here, we coulda just let Spectre hack this place." And he would have been eating and sleeping his fill.

"True, any data pertinent to G is most likely destroyed, but that's not all that's useful. Even if it's different or if its fragments of data, we could still piece it together. I'm the virologist here, remember?"

"True. Allow me to assist you then." Spectre found another computer terminal for himself and began working as well. "Not to seem pessimistic, but on the off chance we fuck up, we can't go back empty-handed. Beltway, take Viper and look for memory drives, disks, anything like that. If it seems useful, we take it. We'll piece it together later.

"Sir, we can't stop here. Birkin'll get away." Vector whispered to Hunk.

"Even if Birkin knew the blueprints of this facility backwards, he will not escape from us alone. He will not and cannot move until his American guard dogs arrive. How much time do you need?"

"At this pace? About a minute for me." Four Eyes replied scrolling through the files.

"It will take longer for me. I could not salvage as much as I anticipated, but I found some things that sparked….personal interest. Give me three."

After exactly three minutes had elapsed, Hunk entered the code on a keypad mounted on the wall, opening the thick, overlapped iron shutters. Behind them was another man, dressed similarly to Hunk. He gave a salute to Hunk.

"Delta team, guard this door. Do not let _anyone_ approach." He opened the door which had Birkin's name plate welded in place with his team member.

"So, you've finally come." Birkin sneered.

"Doctor, we're here to collect the G-Virus sample." Hunk uttered in his usual cold, matter-of-fact tone.

"Sorry, but I won't just hand over my life's work." Seconds later, there was a scream. It was Birkin, followed by muffled sounds of gunfire.

"Stop it! You might hit the sample! That's it alright. Okay, let's move out!"

Viper felt a strange sense of unease at the pit of his stomach as he eyed the door on the right. "GET AWAY FROM THE DOOR!"

Soon after, a deafening explosion tore down the door and the blast knocked the Wolfpack down to the ground. Despite being the first one to take cover, being the lightest of the group, Viper took it the hardest. He sailed through the air like a piece of paper being tossed around by the wind and slammed into the wall. Viper felt his vision blacken for a split second, and his ears were ringing so much it was giving him a headache. He then felt someone grab him by the back of his collar, and saw Beltway dragging him back to cover as he fired his M4A1.

"Yo, you alright?!"

"My head hurts like a motherfucker and my hearing is fucking useless right now."

"Ah, just give it a minute, you'll have your hearing back in no time. Anyways, got some good news! It's Uncle Sam's merry escorts. These were the _cabrons_ that tripped the alarm!"

Trying to make out what Beltway was saying with poor hearing and even more screaming and gunfire on top of it was near impossible, but Viper was able to make out the words "Uncle Sam" and "escorts". Once his hearing had returned enough to hear Beltway's laughter, Viper also began returning fire, until he noticed there was one man missing. "Whoa, Beltway, hold up. Where's Vector?"

"Ninja man's doing his invisible assassin thing, taking them from behind. Guess he wants to show off to Mr. Death."

Once the gunfire ceased and the smoke from grenades settled down, the area was silent.

"All units, stand by until Vector gives an update." Lupo whispered.

"Copy that." Everyone else acknowledged in unison.

The space in front of them shimmered as Vector materialized out of thin air holding a long, slightly curved knife in one hand caked with blood and a Beretta in the other. "Wolfpack, this is Vector. All hostiles have been neutralized. Sir, we're all clear to move."

"I have zero readings as well," Spectre confirmed from his device.

"Spectre, when I kill, I prefer to go close and personal so I know they stay dead, though I doubt that's the last we'll see of them."

"Time to move. Follow me." Everyone formed ranks around the Alpha Team operative holding a large case and hurried to the elevator. As the door closed, they heard a roar that sent a shiver down everyone. It was not a voice belonging to a person or to an animal that any of them knew. It was something else, but it didn't matter right now. "Goblin 6, what's your status?"

 _"_ _The upper levels are secure,"_ a woman's voice replied in a rather low, gruff voice. _"All above ground escape routes are on lockdown. Waiting on you sir."_

 _"_ _Alpha Team, have you retrieved the sample yet?"_ The USS command's impatient voice sounded almost immediately after.

"Affirmative. Heading to the rendezvous point."

 _"_ _Understood."_

"You're very welcome," Viper muttered under his breath, not even trying to hide the intense hatred he was feeling for. In fact, he was ready to tear the earpiece off and curse an earful at this high and mighty son of a bitch, but Lupo, who was standing next to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"For once, I agree with the kid. An added bonus is in order for this mission."

"Beltway, shut your mouth. I'll have them dock your pay if I hear another stupid joke from you."

"Fine, fine! _Dios mio,_ you're one scary woman, captain." Despite being the most imposing in terms of physical appearance, Beltway unconsciously took a step back holding his hands in the air as a gesture of defeat. Lupo's deathly glare was that frightening.

"You too, Viper. Enough with the side commentary."

"Fine."

Let sleeping dogs lie. Or in this case, let sleeping wolves lie. There is nothing more foolish than angering a woman who killed her husband with her bare hands for abusing her children, and then getting acquitted on top of it when tried in court. Viper and Beltway soon after kept sounding off to a bare minimum.

The elevator stopped moving, and they all began running towards the exit, but on their way, all of them started to hear and feel the ground underneath them shaking rhythmically, like they were giant footsteps. Lupo, Vector and Viper, the three fastest members on their feet, were the first to notice.

"Shut up. I _will_ decrease your cut."

"But-"

Viper's words were cut off by another roar, coming from the end of the corridor they just passed.

Lupo turned her head and saw a massive, snarling monster standing over ten feet tall, armed with a large metal pipe bounding towards them. His skin was a sickly shade of some indescribable color, and the muscles particularly on the right half of his body was bulging in an unnatural way, giving it an asymmetrical sillhouette and adding to the bizarreness of its appearance. "SHIT!"

All of them dove out of the way in time. All except the operative carrying the case, that is. The first blow glanced off the surprisingly durable case, but sent him flying into Hunk. The case fell open as it hit the ground, partially dented from the force of the blow and its electronic lock now useless. The samples of the T-Virus and G-Virus contained in vials tumbled out of the case and several of them shattered on impact. Birkin lumbered towards the soldiers, crushing another vial of the T-Virus sample underfoot.

" _Merde!_ " Viper snickered upon hearing Lupo, someone who rarely cursed, curse out loud in her native tongue.

Hunk began firing his weapon at Birkin as soon as he recovered, and noticed the face of the man he just met. Although the body was now unrecognizable, the structure of the head and face had remained the same. It belonged to the man once known as William Birkin, who had apparently injected the G-Virus into himself. "Wolfpack, let's move! Cover me!"

For a second, everyone was stunned, but soon snapped out of it and began firing on Birkin as they made their hasty retreat. Luckily, the virus seemed to have enhanced his strength of the upper body more than anything, and the extra weight created by the engorged torso made mobility one of its weak points.

The virus sample had been destroyed. Now that it has leaked out, it was only a matter of time before it tears Raccoon City up from the inside out. Viper picked up the pace as he continued to steady his breathing. Fighting an enemy that will wave off rifle rounds like mosquito bites was nothing short of suicide. An RPG or a rocket launcher or even a tank would be good to have right now, but as they are unavailable, their only option was to run.

"Some good news and bad news, captain. Good news: according to floor plans our current route is shortest for escape. Bad news: we have special operatives waiting to give us warm welcome after hacking some cameras. Not too much of a problem if it was them alone, but we have monster on our tail."

"Well done," Lupo nodded as she looked over her shoulder to make sure they were out of reach. "We'll think of something later. For now, keep moving!"

Hunk and Beltway were bringing up the rear as they continued to fire on Birkin to look for a weak spot of any kind. Beltway's last shell in his shotgun's chamber loosened a horde of buckshot, burying themselves into his right arm, where there was a giant, bloodshot, unblinking eye that was bulging like a cyst. The already slow advance of Birkin slowed down even more. "Found it!"

"I see, that eye, huh? All units, if Birkin gets too close aim for the eyeball on his right arm."

"Aw, come on, let's give 'im all we got while we got the chance, Mr. Death." Beltway quickly unslung his pack and pulled out a discus the size of a teacup's saucer, and threw it like a frisbee. It did not hit Birkin's new eye, but hitting such a big target was not hard. The center of the disk had a red light that started to blink, and eventually exploded. "Lupo, I just hit him with a directional bomb to slow him down. Move your ass and get more distance between all of you!"

But the G-Virus had blessed Birkin with unimaginable strength as well as regenerative properties and they were ill-equipped to take down the behemoth. He had already taken out one Alpha Team operative, and as Spectre had warned earlier, they had several skirmishes with special operatives.

Once they had broken through that, Hunk started shoving the Wolfpack towards the door. "Come on! Birkin injected himself with the G-Virus, there's nothing you can do. Get out of here and make a full report to management."

Vector stopped Hunk's hand before it hit the switch to lock the door. "What about you, sir?"

"I lost the sample," he grunted with a mild tone of annoyance, but maintaining the matter-of-factness. "I'm going back for it."

"You sure about leaving him alone there?"

"No need to worry. Death never dies. Let's go."

Viper sensed the sunken tone in Vector's voice who rarely displayed his emotions, if any, verbally or otherwise. He remained silent all the way to keep the flutter in his voice from being detected.


	3. Preparation

So so sorry! This is supposed to be chapter 3!

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A week passed ever since the mission to bring back the G-Virus samples and the assassination of William Birkin failed. The Wolfpack convened in the meeting room to hear their new orders which arrived early in the morning. Leather couches were situated in a semicircle facing the screen and in the corner was a small kitchen and a refrigerator.

Team leader and assault specialist Lupo had already been there since half an hour ago. She was a beautiful woman, to say the least. Her smooth porcelain skin and slender figure made it hard to believe that she was the eldest member of the team. However, beauty was not all she had. Her steely gray eyes with long tapering slits narrowing looked like the edge of well-sharpened knives, and she had an atmosphere of power around her which she donned like a brushed her shoulder length auburn hair out of the way and tied it up in a ponytail.

"Morning, cap'n." The next to walk in was Viper, the youngest of the team, not even ten years of age. Judging by the slightly tan skin and unruly jet-black hair he was definitely Asian, at least partially, if it weren't for his blue eyes reminiscent of a cat. But contrary to the innocent look, his body was in peak condition for a child his age, and the toned muscles of his limber body was apparent through the long sleeve shirt and frayed jeans he wore.

"Good morning. Where's the rest of my team?"

"They're on their way. Oh, but Four Eyes was up until early this morning going through files and piecing them together, so she'll probably be late. Bertha or Beltway should be bringing her."

"I see." Lupo exhaled softly as she turned her head towards the window. She always had a no-nonsense demeanor about her, but now she had a long face, which Viper failed to notice from behind.

"What are we doing now? Why the meeting? It hasn't been that long since our last assignment."

"I will disclose everything when they come. Eat something for now while we wait."

Viper shrugged as he sauntered over to the small kitchen area and began raiding the fridge for some fruits, vegetables, milk, and several pieces of toast. While waiting for the toast to finish, he ravenously attacked some carrots, tomatoes and apples.

Seeing this from the corner of her eye made Lupo's face break into a slight smile as it reminded her of her own children, but at the same time bringing about a sense of unbearable emptiness. The knowledge of him having killed as many people as he had made her slightly sick to her stomach. He was the first child soldier she encountered after retiring from the French Special Forces with a decorated career. At first she was utterly shocked to discover that a child younger than her own would be under her charge.

When everyone met for the first time, they had all underestimated him. No matter how much arduous training he had gone through, he would be nothing but a liability; they were proved wrong. Time and time again Viper proved his worth to the others that he is nothing short of a valuable asset to the Delta Team. While he is not as skilled in stealth as Vector, he uses the advantage of being a child whenever he can, infiltrating ducts that no adult can fit in to compromise enemy defenses, and neutralizing more hostiles than anyone in the team during guerrilla warfare.

But what really separated him from the others was an ability which could be called primal intuition or a sixth sense which gave him the ability to feel oncoming danger, whatever it may be. There was no logical explanation, but so far, it has never been wrong.

As time passed, besides Lupo, Beltway, Spectre, Bertha, and Four Eyes who had no interests outside of medical science gradually came to accept Viper as their equal and dote on him like their favorite nephew. Even the ever-distant Vector followed suit in his own way, teaching how to properly maintain knives after fighting with them and offering pointers in application of certain moves from his favored style of martial arts.

As their leader, Lupo had a vow which she had made back during her days in the Special Forces: to bring every man and woman back from every mission alive. But aside from that, she made another one: to protect the boy when he is need, at least until he grew older, stronger, and wiser.

One by one, the wolves entered the room and took a seat, all of their faces bare without the gas masks concealing their faces.

Vector, who specialized in reconnaissance, was a man of Asian descent with jet-black hair like Viper. Scars of various shapes and sizes were visible on his arms, neck and face, and one can only assume that this was only a fraction of battle scars that he had sustained. His expressionless mask like face paired with his skill in disguising his killing intent made it fitting to call him an assassin. He was carrying a whetstone and several knives which never left his side, and proceeded to check for cracks, warps, and rust as he began sharpening them.

Spectre was a man of many talents, particularly in electronics, surveillance, espionage, and sharpshooting. He was quite lanky, the second tallest man in the team, with platinum blonde hair combed back. His skin is significantly paler than Lupo's, with slight bags under his eyes, giving him sunken eyes like a skeleton. The slight smile he is never seen without sends chills down most people's spines. He pulled out a thin cigar from behind his ear and lit it as his free hand effortlessly danced across the keyboard of his laptop.

Four Eyes entered last, dragged along by Bertha and Beltway, who continued to tease her and pat her on the head like a domestic pet. She is Asian as well, sporting a bob cut with her hair sticking out in every which way as she staggered over to a chair with Bertha's help.

Bertha was a golden blonde woman with blue eyes no less stunning or intimidating than her captain who was wearing sweatpants and a shirt with the red cross on it. She ruffled Viper's hair who was taking a large bite out of a toast with a slice of ham and melted cheese on top as she took a seat and opened her notebook bristling with labels and post-it notes, highlighting things every now and then.

Beltway was a Hispanic man built like a grizzly bear, standing over six feet and three inches, covered in tattoos, enough to make people move out of the way if they were to see him. But despite the massive physique, he had the wide grin of a prankster child ready for action. Unlike Spectre, he had a regular cigarette hanging from his mouth, with a rag, a can of oil and some wax for his metal appendage.

"We have a new mission. Orders from management." Lupe began as she cleared her throat to get their attention. She turned the monitor on, which displayed a geographical map of Raccoon City and footage from street cameras of the virus spreading, and it was spreading fast. It was hell on earth as civilians and animals attacked other civilians and animals, tearing them apart, feasting on their flesh and moving on to look for another poor victim to terrorize.

 _"_ _The failure to contain virus samples has left Umbrella in a precarious situation. Hunk is not responding. The UBCS-wing has deployed their forces."_ Red blips began to appear on the map, which began increasing and spreading over a wide area. There were recordings of civilians in distress calling for help with gunfire in the background, which was cut short after meeting their fate. " _To ensure Umbrella's survival, the story of what happened must never be told; we need to make sure the truth dies along with each scrap of evidence and every survivor. Umbrella Security Service Task Force, commence Operation Raccoon City."_

The screen turned off, and Lupo eyed each of her soldiers that have followed her with courage, fortitude, and skill. "It's as you heard. Tonight, we head to Raccoon City. Prepare yourselves."

"Whoa, whoa, hold the fuck up there, Lupo," Beltway growled scrunching his face, with the smile no longer present, "Umbrella's making _us_ responsible for this 'accident'?"

Taking her silence as an affirmation, he smacked the rag he was using to apply the wax on to the table. "They have got to be fucking kidding! Who the fuck do these _maricons_ think they are?! This is _their_ mess to clean up, not ours!"

Spectre tossed his cigar into the sink of the kitchen without so much as a glance. It sailed perfectly into the washbowl, the ignited tip sizzling out. As the usual drinking partner of Beltway, he was a man who smiled a lot, but he looked ready to murder the high command for their actions. "True, we did fail in the containment of T-Virus. But they fucked up first, not catching wind of betrayal of one of their own."

"While I agree with that, those high and mighty shit stains are too proud to admit that they didn't know about it until it was too late, which is why they gave us a call. Four Eyes, wakey-wakey. I'll make some coffee." Unable to watch Four Eyes drift in and out of her dream world as she listened in, Viper got up and started to boil some water.

"Birkin injecting himself with G was unexpected, it does not change the fact that we failed the last mission. This is our way of taking responsibility for that and to redeem ourselves. They will not be happy with us until we can assure them they will not be connected with the outbreak. Our cut upon success will be greater than usual. Thirty-five million dollars. Two million has already been wired in advance. Our only option is forward. We deploy at 2100 hours. Do what you will, but get through PT. Weapons check commences at 2030."

Beltway was the first to leave in a huff, followed by Spectre who gave Lupo a small nod before leaving with his laptop. She could tell he was angry from his set jaw.

"I'll get my PT done right now. Tell management that they'll need to replace a punching bag." Vector took his leave as well, finally satisfied with the condition of his blades. Bertha lent Four Eyes her shoulder as she carried away the somewhat awake virologist to the showers.

"I'm no happier than they are with this," Lupo muttered. "Big failures start with the smallest of split seams. If we had succeeded in securing G, Operation Raccoon City would not be in effect and I wouldn't have to take you all on this mission that would make past missions a walk in the park."

"I'm already used to it, don't worry. We all need our money, right?"

"Well, it certainly does not hurt to have more than less."

"I saw you looking at your open locket before, but that's your family, isn't it? I can't really think of much use for my cut, so I can give you a quarter of it if you want."

"My pockets are not so empty that I need a child to supply me with money." Lupo glared at Viper rebukingly.

"Sorry."

The background of every USS operative is known by the high command. While there is no formal agreement for confidentiality, none of them are inclined to speak of their past, and Lupo was no exception. Viper didn't feel the need to hide it and has told the entire team, but there was no way that she could. She was the only one in the team that had a family. A family, a weakness that can be exploited.

"See you at PT?"

"No promises. Don't push too much, hmm?"

" _D'accord._ " Viper leapt to his feet as he brushed the crumbs of the toast off from his hands and sped out of the room to the gym.

The athletic facility of Umbrella was roughly half the size of a track stadium with a high ceiling, equipped with rows upon rows of high quality athletic machines. Free weights, treadmills, various machines, climbing walls, punching bags, an octagonal fighting cage, an Olympic sized swimming pool, and even a trampoline.

Viper proceeded towards the climbing walls wearing a vest with weights sewn in and weighted belts on his arms and legs to recreate the amount of weight he would have to carry during missions and started to climb. There were no harnesses or lifelines, since they will not always be readily available in every situation. He was roughly sixty feet above the ground, enough to sustain grievous injuries even with the safety mat. After climbing up and down the wall twice, he moved on to push ups and abdominal exercises.

Vector had worked up a giant puddle of sweat at the punching bag. He had been punching, kicking, elbowing, kneeing, and head-butting it as well with such intensity that the stitching had already started to come apart, and the split seams patched up with duct tape were opening up again and widening. He exhaled sharply one last time before smashing a high roundhouse kick, and started running around the outer circumference of the gymnasium.

" _Mein Gott,_ his stamina is inexhaustible," Bertha sighed as she watched Vector begin his second lap. "But I guess it's expected as a USS operative."

"Oh, hey, Bertha. Is Four Eyes up and about now?"

"Thanks to your coffee. She's at the shooting range right now. I could see her glowing from her enthusiasm to collect new samples when we could very well die this time, or worse." Bertha let a sigh loos from her thin glossy lips, and suddenly pulled Viper into a hug.

"Whoa, wai— what the fuck?"

"Oh, come now, don't be shy. You make an excellent body pillow, in case you didn't know." Her words were not ones that belonged to the team medic and master torturer specializing in extracting information while making living a literal hell. They were more befitting for a child that was cuddling her new plush toy.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Bertha. He may look like bear cub, but he bites like pit viper when fighting." Spectre seemed to materialize out of nowhere as he poked his head out the entrance to see his teammates fraternizing.

"Oh, be quiet, you! Where's your friendly bomber friend?"

"I was—with him—at shooting range— but—his laughing—-like hyena—-got on nerves. So I—left—to do PT." He answered as he grunted between every few words while on the wall-mounted salmon ladder pull-up rig.

"Bertha, you mind? I have to get my workout in too."

"Fine," she pouted as she pinched Viper's cheek affectionately, "spoil my fun. Put my fun in camps, why don't you?"

Viper lightly brushed her hand off and hastily started chasing after Vector who was now on his third lap around.

Once the entire Delta Team had convened and finished their usual session of physical training, they all went into the fighting cage for a sparring round where anyone can attack everyone however they want. The use of training weapons made of wood and rubber was also allowed. Although they all had a certain amount of protective gear on to keep each other safe, they were still covered in welts and mat burns here and there while aching all over when they finished.

As members handpicked to be incorporated into the Umbrella Security Service, there were high standards for proficiency in hand to hand combat. Each member had their own preferred style of fighting which made these bouts practically educational as much as it is dangerous. Usually Lupo or Vector who often are the vanguards come out on top most of the time, but the others were just as good as them. Beltway uses his large physique and brute strength, Spectre relied on technique, often using the opponents attack against them, and Bertha used her extensive knowledge of the human anatomy to her advantage, aiming at every vital spot on the human body. Every single one of them had won at least once, all except Viper. As the smallest of the group, his speed surpassed Vector's even with his gear on, and he knew enough vital points that would be fatal when struck. However, his striking power is comparatively low and he was lacking in size which is surprisingly important when it comes to melee. Although it could be reasoned that he is still a child that has not even hit puberty yet, it made him one of the very first targets to be taken out.

"Motherfucking shit…." The male members that were "killed" in the sparring were washing off the sweat they had worked up. Viper finished first and he was repeatedly punching in the door of a locker. "I WAS SO GODDAMN CLOSE!"

The battle royale style vale tudo sparring was a cutthroat competition as always, and Viper was one of the three who were still "alive". And he was able to take down Spectre _and_ Lupo. All that was left was Vector and Bertha.

"Very, very close fight," Spectre encouraged as he dried his hair. "Very good bayoneting techniques too. Compact and fast."

"He'll probably be kicking our asses around the cage in about a decade." Beltway slapped Viper on the back with his NBA player sized hand.

"Thanks." Viper grumbled. That was fine. He knows that his skill is growing, but the problem this time was that Bertha and Vector came at him simultaneously with coordinated attacks. Vector had a knife and a karambit in each hand swung his knives as he closed in, aiming for veins, arteries and various organs. His record of stabs and lacerations he can inflict in a second was four. In other words, the minute someone is within Vector's range, they will almost certainly lose their lives. But getting out of his way meant getting in Bertha's way with a long machete. Failing to fend them off, he ran out of stamina, and her machete blade hit the back of his head while Vector's knife and karambit stopped at his throat and groin.

What surprised Viper the most was after he was "killed". Just as he was about to leave for the showers, he caught a glimpse of Vector tossing his knives away and let Bertha win. Vector, a man who is the epitome of the strong and silent type, a man that takes fighting very seriously, let someone else win without a fight. "Why _did_ Vector do that, Beltway?"

"Oh that? Probably the same reason why I was at the shooting range with Four Eyes."

Viper frowned in confusion and discontent as he cocked his head to one side, not entirely happy with the answer he got. "I don't get it."

"You will, eventually. Give it another ten years." Spectre snickered as he lit a fresh cigarette after putting on a clean shirt and sweat pants.

"I'm gonna take a nap."

"I need one too. _That_ took a lot more out of me than I expected." Beltway yawned.

"Vector, we'll be on our way. Say hello to Bertha for me, eh?"

Vector glared at them through his hair matted with soap and water and flipped them off as they left. Once they were gone, a silent, blonde figure sauntered into his shower stall with nothing but a towel wrapped around her body. It was Bertha.

"Vector." She whispered in a teasing sing-song voice. The towel hiding her naked body soundlessly slid off and fell to the tiled floor in a heap. She wrapped her arms around his stomach, but she stiffened at the low temperature of the water. " _Scheisse,_ this water's cold!"

"Leave it. Cold showers accelerate fat burning." But Bertha reached out and turned the knob, turning the water slightly tepid.

"Always so serious," Her lips brushed against his shoulders, and her breath tickled him with every whisper. "You'd give Lupo a run for her money for the number of scars."

Vector let out a small snort, but made no effort to distance himself from Bertha.

Her thin, delicate fingers started tracing Vector's rippling abdominal muscles and the scar tissue covering his torso. "This was the first one I patched up. Shattered rifle round. This was shrapnel from a grenade, and this one a stab wound from a dull knife. It was infected rather quick, so it was worrying." Bertha's tongue eventually found its way to Vector's ear which she licked tantalizingly. She smiled as she felt him shudder in her embrace and felt the heat in his body rising.

"These scars," Vector grabbed her hands, "are lessons. Every mistake begets pain, which is temporary and therefore a valuable lesson in what not to do. Besides, it comes with the territory of being in charge of recon. But I do appreciate your handiwork in patching me up."

"Thank you for your kind words. Like you said, it comes with the territory of being the medic. Can I ask you one thing?"

"Depends on what it's about?"

"Why did you let me win?"

"Who knows?" Vector shrugged, but let out a minuscule grunt as he felt her nails dig into his stomach.

"Don't bullshit me," Bertha's tone dropped to a chillingly low one, her eyes now squinting. "Going easy is unbecoming of you to say the least, and you tossed your knife aside. Why? Tell me, or I swear I will tear your stomach open with my bare hands. Don't think I won't."

In a flash, Bertha was slammed against the wall of the shower stall hard, both hands pinned above her head. "You should know why. If I get infected and go past the point of no return, I wish to die by your hand. No one else." He lightly knocked his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes without a blink.

"Really? And what about Lupo? Word about possible intimacy with teammates spread fast. You two work relatively close together on missions, so that was a thing, no? You silver tongued devil. She certainly seemed to value more than just your sense of professionalism and expertise in what you do."

Vector frowned as he watched Bertha's lips curl into a vicious smile. He knew these words were meant to spite him. "We both had a bit of alcohol in our system, and what happened then happened and lasted no more than two weeks. We knew it wouldn't work so we both moved on. Lupo is eight years older than I am, but any man would be fortunate to have someone like her. But we still respect each other as warriors, comrades-in-arms."

Apparently satisfied with his answer, Bertha's smile softened as he planted a kiss on Vector's lips. "Good answer, _mein_ _liebling soldat._ Fine, I will kill you if you're beyond saving. But a word of warning, you will not die easily. I will make sure I am the last thing on your mind up to the last millisecond. Also, I do like my men with a high tolerance for pain, in case you didn't know. You gritting your teeth, not screaming through my procedures without painkillers, those cold, eyes….very sexy." She purred before kissing him again, letting it linger this time as she lightly chewed on his lower lip.

"Bertha—"

"It's Michaela. Michaela Schneider."

"Schneider…German for 'cutter', if I remember correctly." He found it surprisingly fitting for someone of her expertise as both doctor and torturer-for-hire.

"Yes, don't you forget it. And this goes without saying, but if you fucking betray me, you die." Bertha broke free of Vector's grip with lightning fast reflexes, pulling him close, attacking his lips hungrily. She guided his hands towards her waist and lower back as she turned the temperature of the water higher. Steam began to rise from the stall as their hands, lips and tongue began exploring each other's bodies. A heated moan escaped from her lips as Vector nipped her just under the jawline. The ecstatic pleasure shot through her like a high voltage shock from a defibrillator as she arched her back. Vector kept going making the pitch in her moans rise as he gently but firmly kneaded her breasts while pinching her fully erect nipples between his fingers.

"I think I found your weak point, _Frau Doktor_. Several in fact," Vector hissed in her ear as he felt her hands run her hands through his hair.

She retaliated by smashing her lips onto his again, forcing her tongue into his mouth and lashing it around every which way, stroking the inside of his cheeks, gums, teeth, and the roof of his mouth. Her hand slid down below Vector's belt line and reached down to his manhood, gently stroking it with her hand. Vector groaned into the kiss, proceeding to slide his hands to Bertha's buttocks, and grabbed them firmly before picking her up. Realizing what he was about to do, she obliged, lifting herself off the floor and wrapped her legs around his waist. "Mmh, quite the passionate romantic, aren't you?"

"Missionary style seemed too boring and basic for someone with your skills and taste is all."

Bertha's eyes widened slightly in shock. Did he just make a snide remark? The man known as the absolute, no nonsense man only on par with Lupo? Realizing what just, happened, she giggled a little. "Shut up and fuck me, idiot." Bertha growled, breathing heavily. Her entire body was flushed, the excitement making glow a shade of crimson.

As Vector entered her, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her moans and screams that leaked out with every move he made. Her teeth marks drew blood as she bit down even harder as he elicited screams signaling her consecutive climaxes but she didn't care, and neither did he. Both of them gave in to their primal instincts and drowned in the carnal pleasures as they continued to ravish each other.

By the time they had finished, their bodies were riddled with a combination of love bites, teeth marks and nail scratches (which only Vector sustained), giving them a hard time to cover them up to avoid explaining how they came to be.


	4. Operation Raccoon City

Slowly but steadily the number of readers is climbing. Thank you readers. And I would especially like to thank the first user that favorited this story, Unknown-Ark.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fan based crossover. The Resident Evil franchise and Highschool of the Dead belong to its respective owners. I own nothing except the writing posted here. Please support the official release.

* * *

At 9:45 p.m, the Wolfpack were swaying in the wind as they flew through the inky darkness of the night sky above Raccoon City as the rotors of the UH-60 Black Hawk rapidly beating the air smashed through the silence. Besides the seven operatives, there were several large boxes filled to the brim with various weapons. There were the standard issue handguns, assault rifles, ammunition, different types of grenades, and other heavy weapons in preparation to face down B.O.W.s that have mutated.

 _"_ _T-minus thirty seconds before approaching drop point."_ All seven men and women began to take action upon hearing from the pilot. They rappelled down from the Black Hawk with the bins, and the helicopter left, and the city plunged into silence once more as the sound of the rotors began to fade out.

The boxes contained several variants of the Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle, customized Colt M1911A1s, each member's favored backup weapon for emergencies, suppressors, flashlights, red dot sights and other such accessories.

"Load them up." On Lupo's signal, everyone started stuffing the pockets, pouches and holsters with their equipment.

"What's that thing under your rifle?" Viper inquired as he pointed at the object attached underneath the barrel of Lupo's rifle. There was another barrel with a trigger and a magazine sticking out of it.

"M26 Modular Accessory Shotgun System. Hopefully I won't have to use it." She finished as she fed a large drum magazine and engaged the first round into the chamber.

"Beltway, what is this?" Specter pointed at the last weapon that was left in the box. It was another weapon, the FN Minimi calibered in 5.56mm with three ammunition belts holding two hundred rounds.

"An FN Minimi? Jesus fucking Christ, man….You brought out a Squad Automatic Weapon on this mission? This takes up way too much damn space." Viper sighed. While this weapon's firing rate of seven hundred rounds per minute was ideal for mowing down waves of B.O.W.s, but they would lose a significant amount of bullets that they definitely will need in the future. Besides the fact that being belt-fed making it impossible to reload as quickly as a rifle, it is heavy, weighing at least twenty pounds with ammunition. This mission will undoubtedly be time consuming, and therefore speed and efficiency was of the essence. There was no doubt that this heavy hunk of metal would slow them down to some extent. As Beltway was the man who always carries excess equipment, there was no doubt about that.

"These are special bullets, _esse._ Explosive tips that detonate on impact after being fired." Brushing off his teammates' gazes and sighs of exasperation, with an ominous laugh, he continued, "Don't worry, I'll keep up even with this bad boy. We run into a big ass B.O.W. and I will cut his ass _down_ with this baby _._ Besides, I can ditch the damn thing once I'm out. I put in the order for one, but it ain't my money I'm spending."

"Give me the spare belts. I may use them when I run out." The volunteer was Four Eyes, which surprised everyone. She rarely volunteered for any work besides anything related to her field of expertise. In fact, she detests any physical activity that involved heavy lifting.

"This is a surprise. What changed?" Spectre teased. His goggles zoomed in and out, focusing on her.

"To begin with, I'm a scientist, not fighters like you six. But Beltway gave me some…pointers for combat. A favor for a favor. I also have the most space in my pack. I'll use him as a meat shield if worse comes to worse." With that, she snatched the extra ammunition and dumped them in her hardshell backpack.

" _Tu gracias,_ Four Eyes. I love you, girl."

"Enough chatter, our destination is the city hall".

As if a switch was engaged, the air around the seven of them immediately tensed up, and seven sets of boots hit the cold concrete floor, signaling the beginning of their advance. Moving itself did not take long, but despite the anticipation for rapid screams of terror, shouts of anger, cries of pain and gunfire, a hushed silence had fallen upon the city. The ominous feeling put Viper on alert, higher than usual.

"Command, we have reached position one."

 _"_ _Acknowledged. Position is confirmed. Proceed into the cold zone."_

As they covered each other's blind spots, slowing their pace and keeping noise to a bare minimum. The lights illuminated the murk of the underground passageway that lead to the basement floor of the city hall.

The place was already drenched in blood; it looked like someone had flung buckets of dark red paint over the floors and walls. There was a woman's body missing half of her head and two of her limbs chewed off, her innards exposed after hunks of flesh had been torn off, a child missing his lower jaw, and a chewed off wrinkly arm of an old man, with a cane still in hand. There were probably more hidden under the cover of the dark.

Through the single thin door, there were groans, grunts snarls, and the stomach lurching sound of masticating raw meat, bones and all.

They were there, more than one or two of them. Everyone's grips on their weapons tightened. Vector signaled that he would take point through hand signals as he switched from his G36 to his knife and handgun. He screwed the short barrel suppressor on as Bertha tightened her hands around the doorknob. Once Vector counted off three fingers, she silently opened the door as he slipped in and at the same time loosened the indescribably horrendous stench of decaying flesh.

Vector felled the first of the infected with a good portion of its neck and shoulder missing with a knife through the forehead. Pushing it out of the way, he sprayed another's brains across the wall with a suppressed shot at near point-blank range. The Wolfpack followed him in, each picking their targets.

"Shit….They were eating each other." Vector grunted in disgust as he averted his gaze from a body that was missing most of its head as well as its internal organs. While it was nothing new being in this line of work, it was not something that anyone in their right mind would particularly enjoy looking at.

"If you think this is bad, you should see Siberian gulag. Much, much worse."

"All units pick your targets and intercept, do _not_ let them get close!" Under Lupo's directions, the annihilation took less than a minute as seven weapons opened fire tracing the heads of the infected lumbering towards them.

Once Viper crushed the last one's head obstinately crawling towards them, they moved on to further rooms.

The speed of sound in room temperature is roughly three hundred and forty meters per second, but a 5.56 caliber round's initial speed is three times as fast. Suppressors can dampen the shot to an extent but nevertheless, everyone's ears were ringing slightly. As they moved on to the next room, a man in his thirties clad in camouflage appeared in their view, weapon in hand ready to fire any time.

"Stop! Hold your fire!" Lupo halted everyone just as their fingers were about to jerk on the trigger.

"Nicholai Genovaef, UBCS D-Platoon B-Squad." The man who introduced himself had short platinum blond hair like Spectre, with a slight smirk on his face as if he were enjoying a party. His voice was husky and had an accent as well, similar to Spectre's. He stared hard at the Wolfpack clad in black from head to toe. "You're Umbrella Security Service? Upper management must be in a panic if they're sending you people in."

"Save it, we are not here to exchange pleasantries," Lupo snapped. Her serious demeanor was compounded with the creases in her brows deepening. In fact, there was a hint of anger and impatience in her voice "What is your business here?"

"My team was sent here to rescue citizens, but apparently there's no time left for that. City Hall is a mess. I ran into you while I was looking for a safe zone."

Upon hearing those words, Viper burst into a small fit of laughter. If Nicholai was serious about finding a safe zone in Raccoon City, he is nothing more than a thick headed idiot clinging to false hope. There is no safe zone in a city at night infested with monsters without intellect that know no fatigue, thirst nor hunger, roaming the streets.

Lupe shot a rebuking look at Viper, who took a dee breath and composed himself after his fit of laughter. "There is no safe zone. What is happening over there?" She pointed towards the door behind Nicholai with her chin.

"The building is full of infected crawling about the place and some unidentified military personnel. They seemed to be looking for something, but why do you ask? What is your purpose—-"

"Hey, shitbird," Viper cut him off, "w _e_ ask the questions, 'kay? I don't like the way he's looking at me. Can I kill him? Now? Please?" He asked as he leveled his rifle at Nicholai, finger lightly resting on the trigger.

"Leave him. Save your bullets." Bertha reproved as she made him lower his weapon. "He's UBCS, let him die on his own somewhere. Keep that shot for when you really need it."

"Can I kill him with a knife then?" Viper persisted.

"Viper? _No._ " He grumbled inaudible words making a pouty face underneath his gas mask, but knew better than to talk back to Lupo during a mission and did not press any further. "We still have a mission to finish. Let's go."

"All the best with your mission. And I suggest you keep the boy alive while you can. Live bait has its uses to circumvent those things." Ignoring Nicholai's snide remarks, they left.

"Vector."

"What?"

"You don't like him either, do you?"

Vector didn't answer, but acknowledging his silence as a yes, Viper continued, "You may have used Nicholai's body as cover to hide your hands, but did you really think that I wouldn't notice that you had your hand on your knife?"

Just as Viper had pointed out, Vector's hand instinctively found its way to the hilt of his trusty blade as he stood behind Nicholai, sensing hostility of some form or other. If he wanted, he could have torn every major artery in his neck, severed the abdominal aorta, or pierced the brain stem effortlessly. "Yes….I won't deny I harbor a strong sense of antipathy towards him."

"I honestly shoulda killed him there. One more dead UBCS member isn't going to make a difference at this point. It would feel better to put affairs in order, so to speak. Killing UBCS is nothing new."

Several minutes after their run-in with Nicholai, USS Command's voice came up. _"City Hall is under complete lockdown. Go to the security room and override it."_

"Copy that, Command. Viper, come. You're taking point. I'll cover you."

"On it." He slowly made his way up a flight of stairs, walking past more grisly bodies mangled and spoiled beyond recognition. As he quietly opened one of the doors, Viper saw the room was swarming with over two dozen infected. While Nicholai was far from pleasant as a human being, his words couldn't be further from the truth. "Mess, my ass Nicholai. This is nothing short of a mild shit storm."

The only large cluster was in front of him, and the stairs leading to the first floor on the right hand side had a more or less clear path. Viper made eye contact with Vector and pointed at a grenade nested in a pouch of the chest rig. Vector cast his eyes down for a few seconds in thought, but Lupo gave him a tap on the shoulder and a thumbs up.

After removing the pin, Vector lobbed the grenade into the room, as it flew in an arc and landed with a solid clunking noise before exploding. The strangely high-powered grenade tore most of the infected closest to the hypocenter to shreds. Others were still moving but were incapacitated to the point where they would not even be a hinderance.

"Ah, man. There's nothing more refreshing than the smell of burning gunpowder. Get's all my juices flowing.

"Shut up, Beltway." Four Eyes groaned in annoyance at the giddy man-child.

"Oh come on, don't be that way Four Eyes. That was our first office pop during the mission! Of course I'm gonna be happy!" He poked the side of her head with a gloved finger jokingly as she batted his hand out of the way like a mosquito.

"Speaking of which, Beltway, what were you doing with Four Eyes? You were the last two to come for PT."

Lupo took immediate and rather excessive action upon hearing Viper's question, swatting him on his head. "OW! What was that for?!"

"That's not for you to know yet. Beltway, if you answer I will take your other leg."

"It's a science project, Mr. Viper. Biology, to be exact." Beltway's face was obscured by the full face helmet with the mask attached to it, but everyone could tell he had a big mischievous grin on his face underneath it.

Four Eyes' cheeks turned a bright pinkish red, but it went unnoticed thanks to the darkness of the room and her gas mask that covered her lower half of the face.

"Honestly, you people…" Lupo sighed and rolled her eyes, thinking of some word to describe them accurately, but thought better of it.

"I'm reading activity behind this door from a third party. Movement and heat signatures indicate non-infected. They definitely heard the gunfire and the explosion."

Non-infected. There was only one answer that would fit the description. Soldiers deployed by the United States government to save any and all people left.

Third Party. SPEC-OPS.

In other words, enemies.


	5. Corruption

Good morning, hello and good evening to readers and writers. I'm back with a new chapter. So, now I have over 100 views, another user who added this story as a favorite and two followers. Thank you **Miko 56** and **Gasper vladi** for your support. And without further ado, here we go.

 **Disclaimer:** This is a fan based crossover. The Resident Evil franchise and Highschool of the Dead belong to its respective owners. I own nothing except the writing posted here. Please support the official release.

* * *

"Any suggestions Lupo? If we open door and see that we are not civilians, we will be taking showers of lead. And there's no cover to hide behind."

"If there's a duct I could ambush them."

"No. If we are going to get the drop on that number of soldiers, we must all do it together. I don't see a duct anywhere, so either way it won't work." Lupo immediately vetoed Viper's offer.

"I will go. Beltway, give me two flash bangs." Beltway rummaged through the pack and tossed two thin canisters with pins in them towards Vector, who pulled the pins but kept a tight hold on it and the safety lever. "If I keep my head down and get behind them with these, I can start the ambush."

"You will be screwed if you open door, no?"

"I have my cloaking gimmick, in case you've forgotten," Vector replied as he demonstrated.

"I second Vector's plan." Viper spoke up firmly. "We all know Vector doesn't make stupid mistakes. They'll probably think the blast messed up the hinges or something. People tend to be on alert for things that they can see, so if the door opens and they see nothing, then they'll let their guard down a bit. They won't know what hit 'em."

Lupo was not too keen on Viper's assumptions of how the soldiers beyond the door would act as a professional, but as there were no other viable options, she gave them the go-ahead.

"Detonation is the signal. Spectre, figure out exactly how many there are. See if you could get into the CCTV feeds of the building to see their positions too, if there are any."

"Copy that. Stay hidden, chameleon."

The hooded coat shimmered before Vector disappeared. The coat he wears is a special piece of equipment made by Umbrella's department of research and development that grants him the ability to become invisible temporarily as he blends into the scenery. As a reconnaissance expert, there was no gear better suited for him. Viper had asked him time and time again for his own, but Vector brushed him off, saying that there wasn't anything that was in his size.

Vector slipped through the gap of the door once he eased open inch by inch taking care not to let the door creak unnecessarily. There was no gunfire. He was still unnoticed.

Spectre looked down at the monitor mounted on his arm indicating relative enemy numbers and positions as Beltway quietly fed a grenade round into the M203 under barrel grenade launcher of his rifle.

There was a flash and a large cracking noise that flooded the room, shaking the windows and the Wolfpack's eardrums violently.

"GO!" Beltway's metal leg tore the door off its hinges as it smashed into it like a battering ram, followed by a loud pop, a whooshing noise and another explosion. Each soldier took their positions as they positively picked off the SPEC-OPS one by one.

"Clear."

"Clear."

"Clear."

"All clear. Make sure they're all dead before we move on. This is definitely not the last we'll see of them." Each of them went around, making sure the soldiers were indeed deceased, and when they found some that were alive albeit barely, they finished them off mercilessly, stepping on their throats, breaking their necks, and delivering the final shot.

"Command, we have reached City Hall." While they did not respond, periodical situational reports were mandatory, so once Lupo made the short report, she and her soldiers replenished their ammunition from the dead who have no further use for them.

"Spectre, what's up ahead?"

"Security room. No cameras in there, obviously so I can't see personnel or positions." The other option was to use another stun grenade, but as they had no knowledge of enemy numbers or positions, it may be a waste. "But, I do have this." Spectre produced a handheld monitor and a thin cord several meters long. Once he connected the cord to the monitor, he pointed the other end at Viper, and his face appeared on the screen.

"A snake cam. Nice." Beltway clapped softly.

"I would have brought CornerShot but not enough space. This works just as well." He gently slid the camera underneath the door and used the monitor to control the camera's movements. He held up two fingers indicating the number of men posted there.

While this was good news, they suddenly felt stupid for tensing up so much as they looked at each other. "Probably not trap but….Lupo, any suggestions?"

"Mow them down. Viper, are there any factors that we should be worried about?" Viper closed his eyes for five seconds, completely silent before shaking his head. "Alright, cover each other, don't break ranks." Lupo operated the bolt of the M26 Mass as the shotgun fired a slug round destroying the hinges. Beltway's lunging kick sent the door flying as they jumped in, taking down the two soldiers.

"Command, we've entered the security room." Viper deadpanned

 _"_ _There should be a console. Use it to override the security lockdown."_

"My field of expertise." Spectre swiftly overrode the security as his fingers danced across the keyboards. "Done."

 _"_ _Good. Now you can access the server room and destroy all of the city's records."_

"Now we can move on," Lupo exhaled slowly through her nose as she rubbed her temple.

Viper browsed through the dozens of screens and stopped as he moved closer. "Hey, cap'n? The security feed on this monitor is from earlier today." As the feed played on, the familiar face of Nicholai appeared. Once he came through, he drew his side arm, shot the men in his team and closed the door behind him as infected creatures began to swarm them. Judging by the men pounding on the door he seems to have barricaded the door somehow.

"Nicholai and his men…." While Lupo's lower half of her face was covered, her eyes gave no effort in hiding her indignation towards his actions as she bore a hole through the monitor with her hard stare.

The three men left behind fought valiantly until they ran out of bullets and more infected began converging. One of them tried to climb up onto the lockers but was immediately dragged down after getting a large piece of his right calf was torn off.

"Weaklings. They put up a fight." While reasons differed, Vector sniffed disapprovingly at the events that unfolded on the screen.

"Isn't that against some company policy?" Spectre chuckled.

"No one cares about a few dead UBCS. We've got a job to do."

"Cover!" Before anyone took a step forward to the door leading to their next destination, Beltway stood in front of them with a grenade in each hand, their pins and safety levers already removed. He shoved everyone back after tossing them towards the door, blasting it apart as more undead came lumbering towards them. "Four Eyes! Remember the pheromone canisters?"

"What about them?!"

"Time for a field test! Make them cluster at the threshold!"

"Fine!"

"Hey! Don't even think about trying to use pheromones _and_ explosives when we're boxed in like this! We've got company from behind as well!"

But Beltway ignored Vector's shouts as he covered Four Eyes who pulled out a canister whose shape was similar to the stun grenade. As she removed the pin and lobbed it towards the door. With a sharp hissing noise, streams of red gas began to spout from it and the infected creatures turned their heads and moved towards the origin, pushing, falling and stumbling into each other. Lupo, Spectre, Bertha and Viper wasted no time in peppering them with bullets until their clips ran dry as they fell to the ground, dying once more, permanently.

Beltway lured one of the infected towards him and jammed a grenade into its mouth, and shoved it with his foot towards the leftovers that were still moving. He watched with his hands on his hips in admiration as the explosion vaporized a majority of their heads. " _Orale, cabron!_ That was fucking awesome! _My plan_ was fucking _awesome!_ " Beltway repeatedly pumped his fists and ran in a small circle as if he had just singlehandedly won the Super Bowl.

"Awesomely stupid," Bertha spat as she pulled the bloody machete out of a corpse and pointing it directly at Beltway, its tip a mere inch away from his face. "You fucking musclebound sack-of-shit-bomber. If I died, I would have cursed you for all eternity. Actually, no….I'd rather operate on you with tainted equipment." She slapped both sides of his masked face with the flat sides as she wiped the blood off with the corpses' clothes. "Or should I spike your drink with Rohypnol and let the men in prison have their way with you?"

Viper laughed upon hearing those words. Rohypnol was a well known hypnotic misused as a means for drug-facilitated sexual assault and robbery in the United States and Europe. It is a potent drug to begin with, but its potency increases significantly when mixed into alcohol. "I can't imagine Beltway of all people getting his ass stretched by inmates."

Besides, being a behemoth of a man, a regular dosage would never work properly on him and a high enough dosage would be brain dead within minutes. "Bertha, listen to me—"

"What? You _did_ almost just blow us up to kingdom come. I don't care who or what you blow up, do it _outside._ Dying from a building collapsing on our heads because of an explosion is by far one of the most humiliating ways to die, and I want no part of it."

"Alright fine, _Dios mio!_ " He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, only before muttering that he would never make such a dumb mistake.

They pressed on up to the second floor where the server room was located, and once they reached the second floor, Lupo signaled everyone to stop. This was the crossroad of their life. As long as they are small fry, getting past the infected will be no problem. Destroying the data in the server room would be no trouble either. "We'll sweep the floor before we get to the server room," she announced.

Nobody said a word to Lupo's decision. After working together for many missions, they have all grown to understand each other's thoughts and anticipate each other's movements with almost consummate ease. The primary worrying matter for Lupo was the military personnel deployed in Raccoon City. Their existence was top secret within Umbrella Corporation not to mention the outside world. Therefore depending on the situation, they were to destroy, capture or kill any and all evidence and witnesses.

Just as the phrase "divide and conquer" denotes, doing so would be more efficient, but this with so few numbers, doing so would be the absolute height of folly. In the worst cases, some would be incapacitated if not dead, a risk which she was not willing to take. Therefore Lupo laid emphasis on steadiness than efficiency.

"Contact with SPEC-OPS is unavoidable. Ignore the infected unless the only way is through. Make every shot count."


	6. Search & Destroy

Getting to the server room did not take too much time, even with the SPEC-OPS impeding their path. What made it easier was that they were already having theirs share of skirmishes with the infected. Four Eyes exploited this opportunity with her pheromone gas canisters, agitating them and increasing their ferocity as Spectre picked them off with well-placed headshots from a rifle he took off a dead soldier.

The first thing they saw once they opened the door of the server room were three bodies mangled beyond recognition, covered in bite marks. "So this was the scene of the crime that I saw in the security room," Viper muttered cooly, prodding one of the bodies in the head with his foot. "What the hell does he want to do?" It made no sense to him. Sacrificing them one by one would make more sense, but he let all three of his "live baits" die all at once, effectively shortening his chances of survival.

"Well, he certainly is crazier than us, feeding his men to the infected. I can tell he's done this before several times. Well, I guess you could count them lucky. They died before they turned."

"Cant argue with that, but _we_ are in no position to call him crazy, Spectre. We're a bunch of fucking psychos ourselves, and the expression 'having a few screws loose' would be an understatement of the century."

"Hah! True dat." Viper concurred giggling. Beltway took hold of one of the cabinets holding the servers, poised to send it toppling to the ground, but Spectre stopped him.

"Wait. I know this is our job, but would you mind leaving it like this for a second? I will delete everything personally." Propping his rifle against the wall, and the only sound that filled the room was the rapid sound of fingers hitting the plastic keys as he copied terabytes worth of data onto a separate hard drive. Once that finished, he promptly picked up his rifle and started firing bullets through the servers. " _Now,_ we destroy."

"Alright, let's do this!" Viper gleefully began toppling the servers, and Vector began riddling the fallen motherboard and other circuits with bullet holes the moment they touched the ground. Bertha and Lupo put their machete and tomahawk to good use shattering them even further beyond repair, and Beltway finished them off with several incendiary grenades, the heat melting the shattered pieces of technology beyond repair or salvaging.

"Command, this is Delta Team leader. The servers have been destroyed."

 _"_ _Good. Now proceed to the records room and finish the job."_ Command hung up on them yet again. Viper sighed, wondering how long this slipshod treatment was going to persist as he smacked a fresh magazine into his side arm, but felt an ominous chill that he felt before, back when they were retrieving the G-Virus. He spun around as a shot rang out.

Vector had his pistol in hand, the muzzle still smoking. The empty casing pinged as it skipped across the floor and rolled to a stop. "Check six, Bertha."

There was an infected, lying flat on its back, a few feet behind Bertha. The bullet had accurately pierced the nasal cavity, destroyed the brainstem, and had penetrated through the back of the head, spraying bits of grey matter everywhere. "We've got company."

"Alright, everyone get behind me and get down! It is goddamn time for me to mow _the FUCKING LAWN!_ " Beltway shouted as he stepped forward, holding the FN Minimi that he had not been able to use for a while. " _WHAT YOU GOT, MOTHERFUCKERS!? WHAT YOU GOOOOOT!?_ " He spun around, spraying bullets to the horde of infected coming at him from behind him as well, forcing the others to dive down to the floor as bullets whizzed above their heads. Beltway laughed like a madman as his finger held down the trigger, firing until the gun was the time he was surrounded by two hundred rounds worth of spent bullet casings, there was not a single infected being that was alive in their immediate vicinity. The walls and ceiling were redecorated in a thick coat of dark red.

"You trigger happy bomb nut, we could have _died! Again!_ " Vector was absolutely livid as he took quick strides towards Beltway with Bertha's machete and his own knife in hand, ready to pounce on him at any given moment. "We still could have taken them out without the use of the SAW! We could have saved those bullets when we need them! Think before you act, you overgrown excuse of a human being!"

"Vector, enough. Valid points, but we still have a job to do. We can discuss this later." Bertha calmed him down as she held him back giving his arm a squeeze and taking her machete back.

"Fine. But the next time you pull something that jeopardizes the team as a whole, I will cut your other leg off and feed it to you along with the boot," Vector warned in a low threatening voice with the knife still pointed directly at Beltway. He jammed the blade back into its sheath and brushed off the dust small pieces of rubble clinging to his clothes before walking off.

"You did go too far this time," Four Eyes rebuked Beltway with a stern look on her face. "Our job is subterfuge and destruction of evidence, not elimination. We may have gotten rid of that big wave, but what about the next one? And what if the SPEC-OPS personnel heard it?"

Beltway squirmed uncomfortably and averted his gaze as the petite woman glared up at him. "Alright, okay. I'm sorry. I fucked up. It won't happen again."

"Good. Next time you do it, make sure they're intact enough to take samples." She stared forlornly at the torn apart body parts and the putty of rotting flesh splattered all over the place.

"That's what you're actually angry about? Damn, woman." Beltway chuckled as he gave the woman's backside a light slap, and she retaliated with a kick to his shin.

"I'm glad you two are getting all chummy, lovebirds," Viper spoke up after audibly clearing his throat, "but I'm gonna have to ask you to dial down the public displays of affection until after we finish the job."

Beltway picked up a torn up arm and flung it towards Viper, who yelped in surprise and glee as he started running, soon followed by Beltway and Four Eyes.

They ascended to the third floor via the south staircase, but contrary to what they anticipated, there was only one infected, and it was soon shredded with bullets from the SPEC-OPS that had hidden away there.

Vector and Beltway each tossed grenades—stun, smoke, fragmentation—- in their general direction, and Viper charged in immediately after their detonation, pistol and knife in hand, striking hard and fast without pity, without mercy, just like the callsign he was given.

Eliminate, advance.

That was the only path for the Wolfpack. However the only reason they can do so without hesitation was because each of them know the others will cover their blindspots even in the most hellishly dire situations.

Above, below, to the sides and behind them. They all threw quick glances in every direction, in every nook and cranny that a person could hide in. Their hearts were beating painfully in their chests like sharp, rapid jabs from a boxer, but as they focused on their breathing, matching the rhythm, they gradually slowed it down together. That was the source of their strength: unity. Each one have unique strengths that no one equaled, allowing them a wider range of tactics, more observational data, and more opportunities to deal the killing blow to their prey.

The door with the plate reading "Records Room" was slightly ajar. Spectre nodded, giving the go-ahead to enter the room after making sure it was deserted with his snake camera. The room was a forest of shelves, housing books and binders containing a myriad of information. Most of them were torn up and scattered all over the room, most of them drenched or at the very least stained in blood.

"Bertha, Four Eyes, secure the doorway. Everyone else find the evidence and pile it up on this desk." They all split up and started their search from different corners of the room.

"Vector, wait," Viper grabbed his arm before he could take another step. He pointed downwards, indicating a very fine red line of light. "Laser traps. Beltway!"

"Yeah yeah yeah, traps. I know, I saw 'em, and I'm on it with Spectre. I'm a big guy, so my best route is through than around. You let me worry about these, alright? This'll definitely come in handy later"

"Ah, this brings back memories. The land mines during second World War set by Japanese Imperial Army. Distinct smell of TNT. Major pain in the ass to disarm. One guy I saw, lost seventy percent of his head after fucking up…"

While it did take some time sifting through all the material in the room, all the evidence was retrieved successfully. "Let's burn it. Spectre."

Spectre pulled a lighter out from his pocket, spinning the flint wheel several times, but all that appeared were sparks and nothing else. He kept continuing in vain but the sparks only grew smaller after every few attempts. "Sorry, out of lighter fluid. Beltway?"

"Don't look at me man. I left mine back in my room. The flint was out of commission."

"Oh, for God's sake!" Bertha stomped the ground in frustration. "Spectre's lighter not working, I can understand. You need to cut back on smoking anyways, but why is it our resident bomber is without a lighter!? He can't even light a fuse of dynamite! That's like torture without the screams of pain! _Scheisse!_ "

"Bertha, I know you like your job and I'm proud that you're good at it, but dial it down a bit, please?" Four Eyes pleaded in fear, noticing the slight glint of madness in Bertha's eyes that she gets when she is getting angry or excited

"I have one, " Viper piped up as he pulled out a zippo lighter. "Right here."

"What the— _pinche cabron,_ that's mine!" Beltway gasped.

"It was on the workbench disassembled so I took the liberty of fixing it. It's fully loaded too." With a strike of the flint and a small whooshing sound, an orange flame emerged from the wick. "And you're welcome."

"This is why we keep you around." Spectre chuckled, patting Viper's head.

As they watched all the evidence stacked on the table turn to ash, they reported the completion of another part of the operation.

"Time to leave. Let's move."

"No need to tell us twice."

"Jesus Christ, fuckin' finally!"

All of them sped down the stairs, eager to leave this hellhole of a city.

Once they had descended to the first floor, slivers of the flooring exploded as bullets tore through it, making them stop in their tracks.

"Nicholai….!" Lupo growled in anger as she stared up at the man. "What is wrong with you? Why did you kill your whole damn team!?"

He only laughed in response. "They served their purpose most excellently. As you will now!" Nicholai continued to laugh, which echoed as he disappeared.

"I told you we shoulda killed him then and there. Vector was coming as close as I was too. Next time, I don't care if I have to ignore an order from you Lupo, but that fucker is going to _die._ "

"Do what you want," Lupo muttered, still seemingly disgusted by the fact alone that she was in his presence. "I give less than a shit what happens to that scum-sucking pig."

"That's good and all, but we should start thinking of how to get rid of those things on the ceiling." Four Eyes whispered as she pointed her G36 upwards.

On the opposite end of the gun were monsters that only exist in nightmares and horror movies. Its basic physical structure was no different from the average adult human being, but its appearance was anything but human. Its brain, spine, shoulder blades, and the muscles around that area had grown to abnormal proportions, and because of the muscle development, there was absolutely no skin tissue surrounding the body at all. The hands and feet were webbed like an amphibians, and had four claws on each appendage that was fifteen inches long. On top of that, its tongue was moving as if it were another organism entirely.

"BOWs…!" Bertha breathed, scrunching up her face under the gas mask in disgust as she stared up at the beasts on the ceiling. These BOWs, dubbed "Lickers", mutated from the reanimated corpses into something more agile, silent and deadly.

" _Mierda,_ just when I thought I can go back home." Beltway grunted as he loaded a grenade round into the launcher of the G36 and took hold of the Minimi in the other.

"One, two, three…..seven. One apiece?"

"Viper, you honestly think you can take one out on your own?" Vector looked down at him.

"It's a rough estimate," Viper retorted. He knew that Vector was wearing a mocking smirk or at least an expression equivalent to that underneath that mask. "You and Beltway should be done in a minute. Besides, it's humiliating that I can't do what you guys can. I'm the good luck charm of the team, remember?"

"Everyone switch to full auto. If they can cling to walls and ceilings they can attack from any angle at any time. They're fast too, so don't let them or their tongues take you by surprise. Judging by their lack of any eyes, I'm certain these things hunt by sound." Four Eyes spoke quickly.

"So we can use their acute hearing to our advantage. Get stun grenades ready. Watch out for the lag before detonation and make sure they're close enough to take hits. Make all shots count." Lupo gave a sharp glance towards Beltway as she uttered the last sentence.

"Alright, alright, add salt to my wounded pride, why don'tcha? Four Eyes, cover my six."

"Always." She stood back to back with him as she fed a fresh clip into her rifle and engaged the first round.

"Viper, Bertha. Stay alive."

"You too. Don't expect painkillers when you get hurt."

"My place to die isn't here. There is no goddamn way I'm croaking in this shit hole."

Eliminate, advance.

That is all. Nothing will change; not now, not ever.


	7. 6 Years Later

_Whew! Finally found some time to start translating/writing this fanfic again! So sorry it took a_ _while! And thank you to those readers out there following/favoriting my works, to the new followers_ Apex hunter and Abuzzman405. Flashbacks are almost done. Here we go!

* * *

 _A certain day of a certain month, 2004—_

Viper's eyes flew open as he sat up sweating with a knife in one hand that was hidden under his pillow, searching frantically for an enemy. Then he noticed the rusty tin roof and walls through a fuzzy vision. The deep blaring horn from a freighter reminded him where he was: an unused warehouse near the wharf remodeled into a warehouse. With a sigh, he jammed the knife back under his pillow where he had hidden it before going to sleep. His watch indicated the time was 3:30 a.m. "Goddammit, not this again." He grumbled in annoyance. The night's sweat made his shirt grimy and uncomfortable. Getting up, he quietly tiptoed past the couch where Beltway was sleeping with Four Eyes lightly snoring as she snuggled on top of him.

The weather was bleak, with cold rain falling from the sky, but Viper liked this kind of weather. It was quiet, and the sound of rain calmed him down, allowing him to focus. The rain washed away his sweat, making him feel slightly refreshed. It had been over five years since the "incident" in Raccoon City, but like a film reel, everything had been burned into his mind, replaying over and over in his dreams.

The smell of gunpowder residue, the groans and moans of the infected, the battles against the mutated B.O.W.s, the impact from the blast of an explosion, and the pain from claws and bullets all come back vividly. Viper thought that the stress would make him go bald or make him have a psychotic breakdown before he hits puberty.

Viper returned to the warehouse and tossed his soaked shirt into a basket, each filled with men's and women's clothing, respectively. He moved towards the designated kitchen area where Vector, Bertha and Spectre were playing poker using matchsticks as chips. Spectre was in the lead while Vector seemed to be in the middle of a losing streak. Six years had passed, and they all had aged, but their skills and overall abilities, however, have not.

"G _uten Morgen,_ Viper. Care to join? It's getting a little boring right now. Vector isn't exactly a shrewd gambler."

"Thanks but no thanks. I had the dream again from back then."

Spectre looked up from the deck of cards he was shuffling expertly, his face crinkled into a worried countenance. "Again? Seems very frequent nowadays."

"What makes it worse is that they're all lucid dreams. The smell, the sounds, the touch, all of it feels disgustingly real. And I can't fucking sleep after that dream." He pulled out a cold bottle of water from an old fridge and guzzled the entire bottle before tossing the empty bottle away.

"I have sleeping pills if you want some," Berth a offered.

"Appreciate the offer, but not thanks," Viper shook his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "Habitual use has its consequences. I'll stay awake."

"Straight, nine to king," Vector showed his hand. His lips were in a tight line, but there was a child like, triumphant look that was obvious in his eyes.

"You have got to be shitting me." Spectre snorted in disappointment, pushing the pile of matchsticks in the center of the table towards him. His hand was four of a kind with eights.

"Well, it's about time if you ask me," Bertha sighed. She tossed her two pairs of aces and kings onto the pile of discarded cards as she stood up and nonchalantly plopped herself down onto Vector's lap.

"So, what're your plans?"

Spectre frowned, turning his head to one side. "Plans?" He echoed.

"For the future from this moment on. Before we were on the run while taking apart whatever location or people there were related to Umbrella in any way, shape or form. Now that Umbrella's gone, so I think it's high time we start thinking about what to do with ourselves."

Spectre remained silent as he tossed the deck onto the table quivering, holding in his laughter, but soon he began guffawing, clutching at his sides from the pain. "Really, now….The Wolfpack is a pack of misfits that even the other misfits avoided like the plague. What makes you think we can have a steady job in a company somewhere? And what to do with ourselves in the future? Isn't it obvious? If there is a battlefield to be fought in, we go there. That's how we earn our paychecks."

"Working at a hospital or any place related with medical work is a no-go for me, especially after getting my license as a doctor was revoked. Besides, the pay was horrible. I would go for it again if I could, but it'll take lots of time, preparation and money." Bertha swept the matchsticks back into the box and leaned backwards against Vector's chest.

"Okay, I get it, we're sticking together. But, need I remind you, we are fucking BROKE! And we're down to our last mags for our guns too. Even if the idiots that come after us are ten-cent wannabes with guns, if they have the numbers, we won't last a day in the worst case scenario."

"Fair point. What do you suggest then, Lucky Boy?" Spectre inquired as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table.

"We start with the undesirable population of the human race. Drug dealers, arms dealers, pimps, gang members, mafioso, the run of the mill scum that the underbelly of human society has no shortage of."

"I like where this is going," Vector nodded.

"Sounds fun too," Bertha agreed, continuing to stroke Vector's hair with her fingers.

"We start small but once we blow them away to kingdom come, the ball will start rolling. We use their resources as our capital. Killing without leaving evidence is our area of expertise, so the press and police will just think of it as rival organizations communicating in a very meaningful way. We could do mercenary work again as well, but only when the time comes. But we need money to continue this status quo we've kept and some extra funds to leave the country. Oh yeah, and fake passports and ghost accounts."

The three of them looked at each other. It was the perfect plan. Criminal activity was steadily climbing ever since B.O.W.s and its creators have fallen, their secrets exposed. Wherever crime was on the rise were convenient fountains of weapons, money, information and other useful materials.

"Every now and then he impresses me, but not like this. I like this idea." Spectre nodded thoughtfully."

"I do as well. Executives in organized crime and even terrorists should have high-value intel. Oh, why don't we try tracking down most wanted criminals? They have rewards for that too."

"Ooh, good one. Mind if I take charge when we do that? I want some spending money of my own."

While Spectre and Bertha voiced their approval and enthusiasm for Viper's plan, Vector remained silent. "Bertha, your beau seems to want to rain on my parade. Mind persuading him to our side? Work your magic and all?"

"I am not against it," Vector grunted as he picked Bertha up and repositioned her into a position more comfortable to him. "It is a good idea. I'm sure Beltway and Four Eyes would approve as well. The one that I'm worried about is our about Lupo? She's a parent, a mother with children, unlike us. And Viper has no next of kin. It would depend on what she wants, but you two will have a shot at a…..how should I put this….a less bloody, less turbulent life."

But Viper shook his head in response to Vector's option. "I'm staying with you. All of you."

"That's fine, and I won't stop you. Let's hear Lupo's opinion on the matter."

"My opinion on what matter?" Lupo spoke up as she crawled out of her sleeping bag. She was already in her mid-forties, but her appearance told everyone otherwise; she looked no older than mid to late thirties.

"Viper was just making a proposition on how we would go about our lives from now on, and that we should give some people a chance at a normal life should they choose to accept it."

"You're talking about me." Lupo said with conviction, sighing. She stood up and started loosening her body up doing some stretching exercises. "True, I had children. But they are gone now. They have been for a while now." The room was immediately plunged into an icy silence when those words left her lips.

"And you didn't think to tell this to us, why?" Bertha stood up, grabbing Lupo by her shoulders, her nails digging into her skin. "We are your brothers and sisters in arms, but they're your flesh and blood. I've never been a parent myself, but I know parents will do anything to protect their own."

"We worked together for Umbrella, for money, but this is different. Yes, but I couldn't ask you to fight and die for them. You don't gain anything from it."

Viper sat there in shock as if someone had landed a direct blow to his brain, still discombobulated by her words. They're dead? Her children? The children that she always bragged about every now and then when she got drunk?

"That is who they are, aren't they? Any traitors, no matter how deep in the inner circle they are, are dealt with. And a normal life as a mother? I can never lead a life like that, not now or ever. The only life I know is the tightrope of life and death, the life of a soldier. When I left the special forces to start a family, even when I was with child, that part of me has tried to surface so many times. That part of me was always there. I was always afraid to show that side of me to my children." She grabbed a mug and poured herself some coffee and downed it quickly, scrunching her face in disgust. As someone used to making her own coffee starting with grinding the beans, this was unacceptable. "Tuition, living expenses, medical funds for emergencies, my pay from Umbrella covered all of it; in exchange for my life. But this….you six are all I have now."

Nobody said a word, cleared their throat or uttered a grunt. As Lupo was the only one with a family, the loss and the pain was insurmountable. Nobody else dared to say anything to console her. It would only result in adding insult to injury. There was not a trace left of their captain, the "Wolf Mother" that would make even Beltway cower in fear.

"Then whyn't you jus' roll with it?" Beltway mumbled waking up. Four Eyes rolled off of him onto the floor, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes and yawning. "I got kicked out of the army because of who I am. Once Umbrella picked me up and put me under your command, I wasn't too happy, but I grew to like it and have fun. I even picked up new tricks because I rolled with you. I won't stop you if you go your way, but I'd want you with us. That's my vote. Besides," he looked embarrassed and uncomfortable at the next words he was about to utter. "Your pestering no-nonsense attitude kinda remind me of my dead _madre_. Takes me back you know? Plus your grub is fucking amazing."

"Ooh, someone's a mama's boy," Bertha giggled, pointing at him teasingly. "Who would have thought?"

"Oh fuck you, Bertha. Thanks a lot for ruining the mood." He flung the cushion that he was using as a pillow, but she batted it out of the way.

"I'll throw my vote in with Beltway as well," Four Eyes stood up, brushing her hair out of her eyes. I have enough data and intel about Umbrella's viruses and B.O.W.s thanks to Bertha and Spectre. I've done enough experiments and tests, and we have been moving around a lot but I'm finally getting somewhere with a prototype of a vaccine in case we have to go through that again. There's no point in going back to academia. Besides, Bertha could use another hand to sew us up."

"Oh, Four Eyes, this is why I love you." Bertha blew several kisses at her and winked.

Silence fell again. Only it was something more comfortable. They all traded glances, smiling and nodding at each other.

"Beltway, I'm hungry,"

"Alrighty then, let's go," He deftly picked Four Eyes up bridal style and started to leave the room.

"No junk food though. My stomach walls can't handle all the grease. My stomach feels flabby too…"

"Ah, come to think of it. I didn't check wire transfer from our last job. Laptop should be charged by now." Spectre folded up the newspaper and hurriedly went for the stairs.

"Vector, we're going shopping,"

"I'm not buying clothes."

"Oh, will you come on and stop being a baby?" Bertha huffed impatiently as she took Vector's hand and led him off outside, leaving Lupo alone with Viper.

"Remember the first time I got shot?" He broke the silence first and lifted his shirt, revealing two scars from bullets in his left side. "I was bringing up the rear when I took two 5.56mm rounds. One went through and the other shattered when it hit a rib. I had bad internal bleeding and you threatened Bertha with a hatchet to use anesthetics before you pulled the shards out of me."

"She may have her principles, but she had to make an exception with you. Unnecessary pain inflicted on an immature body would leave long lasting repercussions, and the shock would have killed you. Why _did_ you insist on not using it."

Viper averted his gaze, chewing on his lower lip. "When I started working with you six, I knew you didn't treat me as an equal. I had to work to earn your trust. Your respect. If everyone else could hold out—"

"Nobody would have thought less of you." Lupo shushed him gently, cupping his face into her hands. "Do you understand? We all have been your age once. Even me." She held him close, kissing him on the forehead.

"You held my hand while I was out, didn't you?" Viper asked, his voice muffled due to his face being pressed into her bosom.

"….You knew?"

"Yeah. I didn't see it, but my right hand felt a lot warmer than my left. It was just a guess, and then process of elimination. It's too small to be Beltway, a bit bigger than Four Eyes, Bertha was working on me, and Spectre and Vector don't seem like the sentimental type." Hearing these words, Lupo felt an inexplicable sense of joy leaping in her chest, and she hugged the boy tighter as her motherly instincts reared its head. The boy who never knew the concept of being a mother's child, who held a weapon in his hand, killing since he could remember, being treated as an adult; a soldier.

"If….if you were not a child soldier, this would be what a son would get from a mother and more. She would take you places, care for you, kiss you, protect you, and spoil you rotten."

"I like that idea. I'd like you as a parent, I think. Mom." Her heart skipped. A small gasp escaped Lupo—-Karena LesProux— tightening her already vice-like hold on Viper even tighter. Tears started streaming down her face as she sank down to the floor on her knees, crying harder than she ever had in her life. All there was was a mother, mourning her children death, whose body and soul was tattered from the sacrifices, the fighting and the sorrow.

Once she had cried for roughly an hour and released Viper, the back of his shirt had a solid wet spot of tears. "Sorry," she sniffled, "I'm not used to….having people see me cry."

"Oh, don't worry. Remember the time you got a serious concussion and you were just…. _out_ for two days straight? I thought you died and I cr—-shit."

"I think I know why you're our good luck charm, _ma cher_. You have a good heart. And now that I'm refreshed, I'm going to sleep." She flopped down on the couch opposite from the one Beltway was sleeping on and held Viper close like a child snuggling with their favorite plush toy.

"Whoa whoa, wait. Like _this?!_ "

"A child that sleeps well grows well. Be quiet and stay like this for a while. Please. For me." After the lucid dreaming of the hellhole called Raccoon City, Viper was never able to sleep a wink, but by some miracle or another, this new blanket-like warmth from Lupo slowly made him doze off into a deep slumber.

" _Merci, mon fils,_ " Lupo whispered, shedding another tear of joy before closing her eyes as well.

It was high noon already, but that did not matter.


	8. Lucky 7 Turns 13

_O-kay, more followers and people who added this story as a favorite! Thank you so much!_ X-Over Appreciator, Taledict and dragonmaycry12 thank you again. Just hoping I can get some reviews...I like reading those...

* * *

 _A certain day of a certain month, 2006 in Detroit, Michigan—_

"Beltway, I'm sorry to ask you repeatedly, but why exactly are we here again? I quite liked Japan, you know?" Spectre grumbled as he frowned at two computer screens in a motel. The flickering light was getting on his nerves, the interior was outdated and absolutely hideous, and the view was horrid. Beltway had ordered room service for three but there seemed no point in expecting anything good.

"You know what kind of place this is, right? This is the top five states with the highest criminal activity in all of America. The streets are crawling with street walking scum from minor league to major league. And their income: drugs."

Spectre slammed the laptops shut once he shut them off, his patience running dangerously thin. "I'm ex-KGB, ex-FSB with connections to Bratva. Everybody knows that in criminal underworld. We should be going after bigger fish. We could have gone to Mexico or Columbia. They are _real_ major leaguers with deep pockets. Either that or we could go to LA. I've been told there is a Chechen executive on a holiday there. We could have fun _and_ make money."

"Vladimir, you remember what Lupo said, right?" Beltway pushed a printed copy of an e-mail sent from Lupo. Spectre straightened up, surprised being addressed by his real name. Looking down at the e-mail, he realized the gravity of the situation that he was in.

 _Beltway, as you know during the shifts on the long vacations Viper helps us out with our work overseas. This time it is procuring funds, but it is also a test to gauge how proficient he is as of now. How you do it is up to you and I will not mind pushing him hard, but under no circumstances will you get him incapacitated or killed. If you do, I will kill you myself._

 _—_ _L_

 _PS: According to GMT, it is Viper's thirteenth birthday. Get him a present._

"How exactly are we going to come up with funds in Detroit? And if you say stick up every drug gang within a five mile radius, consider me gone in the wind after I kill you."

"Hey hey, chill. Chill, man. Lemme finish. There's a big-shot in the streets from Mexico who owes me big. He gave me an invitation to an underground fight club that's open during the day to throw the cops off the trail. We'll make Viper an unofficial entry."

Spectre broke out in peals of laughter. Even if Viper had walked through war zones all of his life, throwing a child who should be having fun in middle school into a fighting pit with no gloves or rules, Lupo would be calling for blood if she ever found out.

Viper himself was snoring face down on the couch. He had been asleep since he was in the plane, and not even a slap to the face would even stir him or make him flinch, so Beltway had to carry him.

"And what does this big-shot that owes you big want in return?"

"Fee for introducing the place. Ten percent of our total winnings and twenty if he bets on it with his own money. I wasn't in the mood for haggling, so I said yes. Lupo didn't set an exact amount, but for now our aim is one mill. If Viper's good, we'll win more than that."

Spectre knew that he could make more at a casino in less time, but kept that to himself. As a minor, Viper would not be able to enter and the gauging would be impossible there. "If Karena finds out, she will not stop at killing you, and the same would go for me as a form of collective responsibility."

"Then we'll just have to make sure Viper gives it all he's got for our sake. Besides, he took down Lickers with a knife and a single grenade like some mix between Vector and me. He'll persevere as long as it ain't a Tyrant."

Just as Beltway finished, there was a knock at the door. "Room service."

"Wake him up. We'll leave after lunch."

"You split mine with Viper. I'll find a better establishment to eat. Eating here will make shitty food taste even shittier."

Viper immediately understood the kind of "work" he was going to perform as he gazed out the car window in the backseat as Beltway pulled the car over. "I didn't hear anything about this."

"Oh stop your bitching. Lupo gave me full control for where, when, how and what I test you on. It's your first time, so we'll stick with one fight for today." There were some possibilities of unsolicited fights starting after official matches, but he kept quiet about those.

Once they reached the ring, there was a fight going on already. It was a crude one, with the circle made by the spectators while the two men in the middle were trying to tear each other to pieces.

The three were greeted by a stocky, middle aged man in a white suit with his hair slicked back and wearing a smile on his face. "Hector Hivers," he chuckled holding his hand out towards Beltway and looking up at him, "nice to see you again."

"You lose weight?"

"Five pounds. Cutting back on the tequila."

Viper eyed the man's clothing and accessories: tattoos, gold watches and rings, and a diamond stud in his ear. Everything about him screamed run-of-the-mill gangster underboss.

The fight ended and the man laying unconscious on the ground was dragged away by a pair of equally burly men, a man with a loudspeaker shoved his way through the crowd, announcing the next fight. Beltway and Spectre pushed people aside, making way for Viper to pass through to the center of the ring. Participating in an illegal prize fight in and of itself is nothing new or strange, but Viper could feel gazes of suspicion, underestimation, bloodlust, and mixtures of the three boring holes into him.

"Viper, I'm sure you could tell by the last one, but just in case, there are some rules: no weapons, entertain the crowd, and have fun."

"And _win,_ " Spectre added. "That's what we are here for. Just be careful, there's no pads, and considering your stature, vital point or not any hit will be more than painful."

"I got it, geez. Vector taught me how to fight bigger guys since I came. I'll be alright." Viper saw no worrying factors. It was no different from training besides the absence of safety gear. None of his potential opponents are as fast as Vector, or as big as Beltway, or as ruthless as Lupo, or bloodthirsty as Bertha, or as crafty as Spectre.

The corners of Viper's mouth loosened into a thin but visibly maniacal smile which he was failing to suppress. His body was unconsciously trembling with glee. He could fight again. He can tear an enemy apart again. Facing that fact was making his body react in ecstatic pleasure.

"Hey hey, what the fuck's a little kid like him doing here? He get lost or somethin'?" A dark skined man with a red bandana wrapped around his head stooped down to Viper's eye level, pinching his cheek. Viper scrunched his face slightly at the penetrating stench of cheep liquor, cigarettes and the distinct smell of marijuana but kept his smile, both body and mind prepared, itching for a fight.

"I'm not lost. If you're the one that's supposed to fight me, get in line. If not, then stay out of my way, stand in the side lines, shut the fuck up, and take a shower." With blinding speed, Viper slapped the hand pinching his cheek out of the way and grabbed his index and middle finger, deftly bending it backwards and breaking both of them. While Viper cannot overcome bigger opponents with pure strength, he was strong enough to destroy fingers, wrists, ankles, knees and other joints. He silenced the man squealing in pain nursing the injured hand with a head-butt to the nose. Once his head reeled back, the face, chin, throat, stomach and groin were exposed. Bringing his foot back, Viper proceeded to take him apart, landing one strike after another with surgical accuracy before finishing the man off with a roundhouse kick, the thigh making solid contact to the neck. Beltway just laughed as he pushed the now unconscious fool drenched in his own blood out of their path with his foot.

"Alright, all you sick bloodthirsty motherfuckers! Eyes to the center now! We got a new kid in town, unofficial entry. Y'all just saw what went down. Wanna give him a chance?" Most of the crowd who seemed skeptical were now whooping, whistling and applauding after seeing the previous display of savage combat proficiency. "This is gonna be our last fight of the night, but I will guarantee you, you will be begging for more from this kid, so get your stacks of greens _ready_! His opponent, straight from our state's St. Louis penal system: the man with the iron fists, the tank incarnate! The unstoppable…..HOOWAAAAAARD THE HOWITZEEEEEER!"

The crowd cheered on a man whose stature stood head and shoulders above Viper, demonstrating his prowess through his quick footwork and rapid punches. Viper walked up to him standing about two feet away and removed his shirt, tossing it away. While Howard took a classic boxing stance bouncing on the balls of his feet, Viper took nothing resembling a stance of any martial art, only slightly swinging from side to side and keeping a close eye on the opponent just like a venomous snake rearing its head, biding its time to strike.

Howard made the first move, measuring the distance with rapid left jabs. Viper danced around them pivoting on one foot, smirking. The jabs were too slow. Vector's jabs were as fast and as heavy as a major leaguer's fastball, but these were like underhanded throws by comparison. The rapid punches continued to hit nothing but air, and Viper began his counterattack once Howard's right arm completely extended. He stepped to the outside of the extended arm and slammed an uppercut into the unguarded armpit followed by an uppercut catching the tip of the jaw. Viper was about to finish him off by jumping up to slam his knee into the solar plexus, but remembered Beltway's words: _entertain the crowd._ Relaxing his fists, he did several backflips and took a stance he had seen in a kung fu movie, sticking his tongue out. The crowd went wild, cheering the boy on.

 _An angry opponent is an easy opponent,_ Lupo had said over the years. And she was right. Immediately Howard's temper flared as he rushed in, throwing a flurry of punches. Viper bobbed and weaved around them, continuing to taunt him, making the attacks sloppier. The moment he found an opening, Viper struck, stepping in closer and slamming a left hook into Howard's liver. He followed through with a chop to the side of the neck, and a right straight. All of them made solid contact, making Howard drop to his knees, whose complexion was pale and contorted in pain.

"Stop moving around, underdog," Viper growled, but Howard swung his fist, only to be caught, arm and all. "And stay down." The crowd was now silent as they listened in horror to the sickly crunching noise of bones snapping and Howard screaming. By the time it was done, Howard's right thumb and wrist were broken. The elbow followed the same fate as well, along with a torn ligament.

"Nicely done. But don't you think you went a little overboard?" Spectre frowned slightly as he handed a bottle of water and a towel to Viper.

"Underestimating this thirteen year old was his mistake, and doing so with _me_ of all people has a steep price. I read in a book before that ginormous anacondas not only strangle their prey but also crushes bones and puts a shit ton of pressure to the organs. And even if their prey is on the brink of death, they hold them like that for over ten minutes to make sure. Venomous snakes bite several times for the same reason. Besides, overkill is underrated."

"Your merciless attitude is resembling Vector and Bertha more and more, and honestly, it's a little frightening. All the fucked up aspects of you are maturing quickly. Ah well. Let's celebrate." Beltway collected their winnings in an old baseball cap and gave his man his cut.

As they drove off, Beltway pulled over near a tattoo parlor another friend of his owned and let Viper choose whatever tattoo he desired. Without hesitation, he pointed to the roman numeral seven and a tribal wolf tattoo, which he requested to be put below the right clavicle and left shoulder blade respectively.

Viper continued to fight for about a week, gleefully taking his opponents apart and leaving them beyond full recovery, succeeding in making several times more profit than anticipated.


	9. Then & Now

_Woohoo! Over 1000 views! Thank you so much readers! I love you! And thanks to new follower/favoriter_ XxOtakugamerxX2 and bloodxfox. _Now if I could just get a review or two..._

* * *

 _A certain day of a certain month, 2010 in Tokonosu City, Japan—_

Over a decade had passed since the outbreak in Raccoon City, and the word "bioweapon" was something that was rarely heard now. The reason behind this was the establishment of the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Association by the United Nations, keeping a sharp lookout for anything remotely resembling bioweapons. They are supported in many different aspects as they continued to fight the winning war against its users and distributors with eight different branches working together. The Wolfpack was involved in several of the cases, but very few of them were privy to that information in the BSAA.

Viper—who was now calling himself Takashi Komuro—pulled out a Colt M1911A1 and a knife out from under his pillow and stretched his back as he put them on the bedside table. The interior of his spacious room was simple, all of it black or navy blue besides the flooring and ceiling. The far right corner had a futon, the left had a bookcase, a wardrobe, a desk, and a small workbench which had a small refrigerator that was slid underneath lined up.

His body had incurred many scars of different sizes and shapes over the years, His maturity, at least physically, was now no different from an adult. His body was thin but toned and well conditioned, with excess fat close to nonexistent.

"Goddamn, I'm fucking bored," he groaned. It was true. Life as a civilian was too dull and lacking very much in terms of thrill and excitement. "What to do, what to do…?" He muttered, tracing the tattoo on his right torso deep in thought.

The Wolfpack had traveled to almost every country there is in the world, killing and stealing from extremists, terrorists, various criminal organizations, and street gangs. Two years ago, they had succeeded in uncovering dirty scandals of several politicians participating in auctions hosted by sex traffickers, and stole some plutonium in Moldova. In the following year, they had hunted down Somalian pirates and crippled the military force of a certain small island country. After doing similar things for so long, jobs like that were becoming scarce and long vacations have gotten stale.

Takashi did have a social circle beyond the Wolfpack but is kept at a bare minimum, always keeping them at arms length to keep his "true" self intact.

Is there a man that could forever hide their true nature from others and continue living?

The answer is no. Even animals skilled in the art of mimicry eventually come across a predator that they fail to fool, are devoured, and die. Humans are animals as well, and it was only a matter of time before the id's primal desire overwhelms and drowns out the ego and superego. Everyday life full of excitement, of adrenaline, blood, and killing is the Wolfpack's definition of everyday life.

His thoughts were interrupted by a heavy metal song blaring from his phone. The screen showed a name of someone in his small circle of a social life with civilians: Saeko Busujima. Takashi stared at the phone for several seconds, contemplating whether to ignore the call or not, but he answered the call on speaker. "Yes?"

" _H-hello?"_ Her voice was a little low for a girl's, but right now it was at a rather high pitch. He could already feel her nervousness oozing from the speaker. _"Um, is that you, Komuro?"_

"Indeed it is. Aren't you still at the training camp for the kendo club?"

 _"_ _We are taking a break right now, and it ends the day after tomorrow."_

"I see. And to what do I owe the pleasure of getting a call from you?"

 _"_ _I know this may be….well, unorthodox and sudden, but…"_ her voice trailed off.

"Yes?" Takashi pressed on, his patience wearing thin at an accelerated rate from her wishy-washiness and the prolonged exposure of boredom. "What is it you want, Ms. Busujima? Power? Money? Fame? Your own private continent and an army?"

 _"_ _None of the above, actually. I was wondering if I may pay you a visit."_ She answered in a quiet voice after clearing her throat.

"At my place?"

 _"_ _Yes."_

Takashi turned his head to the side. The only people to ever cross the threshold of this house were the members of the Wolfpack taking shifts in pairs, playing their parts of the foster parents and home visits from teachers. Why would she suddenly ask something like this out of the blue? "Well…actually, I'm still working on an assignment right now, and I'm doing it as we speak," he lied through his teeth. In actuality, every assignment was done and finished. Due to the thorough education of the Wolfpack most of whom have graduated from top tier colleges, Takashi's intellect was well beyond a college graduate, and fluent in seven languages including English and Japanese.

 _"_ _Allow me to lend you a hand then. I have finished mine before the training camp."_ Takashi had to slap a hand over his mouth to stifle the groan of annoyance for her persistence. _"Also, I believe I have insisted that you call me by name on multiple occasions. And you always seem to be standing on ceremony bothers me a bit. Our acquaintance is not slight. Not anymore, at least."_

Takashi's forehead slammed into the desk. At least it was on the phone, but on the off chance that someone else had heard this conversation, they would be making baseless speculations about his relationship with her which would open up a new batch of problems.

 _"_ _What was that sound? Are you alright?"_

"No worries. Hardcover book fell off the desk is all."

Takashi first met Saeko four years ago, and the circumstances they met in was far from ideal. It was on the way back from a part time job as a mechanic offered by the Bratva introduced via Spectre's connections. While the workload and pay were good, not everyone was enthusiastic about having a foreigner among them, even in foreign land, leading to some quarrels on the scene. He came across a scene where a middle aged man was obviously molesting her, and unfortunately for the man, Takashi immediately decided to take his pent-up frustration at work out on the unsuspecting pervert, sending him flying into a garbage can after slamming a jumping knee kick into his temple.

Takashi left the scene quickly, but apparently she committed his features to memory in that short span. Their paths crossed again four years later at a private high school called Fujimi Academy. To make things worse, she saw him during a session of shadow boxing including a bout with rubber weapons. While style and ideology may differ, Saeko immediately took a liking to him as a fellow martial artist, and she has been giving him calls, texts, and visits with school materials when he was absent frequently.

But even then Takashi kept his emotions distant from her. Just as she had said, their acquaintance is no longer slight, but that does not mean that they were intimate either. Regardless of what Saeko thought of him, Takashi continued to keep their relationship as a junior student to her senior student.

 _"_ _Of course, I will not press the matter if it is a bad time for you…"_ She murmured forlornly, which made Takashi's mind race almost immediately. If he rejects her here and now, there may be some damage to his double life to some degree, and after taking so long to build this fake persona up to now, it was not a risk he was willing to take.

"It's alright. You're welcome to visit me at your convenience."

 _"_ _Really? Thank you,"_ Her sunken voice rose up immediately.

"I'll pick you up three days from now then. I've recently acquired my driver's license." After informing the essentials, he tossed the phone onto his desk and checked the calendar hanging above the workbench. Under the consensus of three month shits in pairs, Vector and Bertha were currently living with him. but tomorrow they will leave and Beltway (real name Hector Hivers) and Four Eyes (real name Christine Yamata) will take their place.

Takashi was not too worried about Four Eyes since she is someone with a relatively stable personality as long as it does not involve viruses. The real problem was Beltway. He is boorish, rough, and has a penchant for taking jokes and horsing around too far. But the frightening part was his profound knowledge in chemistry, machinery and potential explosives due to his education at MIT. The most recent stunt involved making a helicopter fall from the pad all the way to the ground by setting explosives to the ceilings and floor of all the floors. Takashi made a mental note to ensure Beltway to refrain from any of his experiments in the basement.

 _"_ _Michaela, you heard that?"_ Spectre (real name Vladimir Bodrofski) smiled a twisted smile as he played the conversation over his computer while talking to his sister-in-arms.

"Loud and clear," Bertha answered with a smirk who was currently sitting in the living room directly below Takashi. "You were always good with espionage."

 _"_ _Were? Please, I am and always will be the best around. Still, I'm surprised and intrigued that Viper is letting a woman hang around him for this long. Lupo's instructions were to keep an eye on people who come to that house, but this was nothing short of a good catch. Remind me again who is after you?"_

"Hector and Chris. Forward that recording to them as well and to stay out of the way for now."

Realizing what she meant, Spectre nodded, snickering all the while. _"Copy that."_

"Where are you by the way?"

 _"_ _Ah, I am….accompanying Lupo's visit to her children."_

"Is she alright? She seemed to be drinking a lot more than I remember from eight years ago."

 _"_ _For now, yes, she is stable. I will make sure she has very little. In fact, I am glad it only stopped with drinks. I am aware it is presumptuous of me as a non-family man, but a mother whose child has been taken away from this world truly has nothing left to lose. I cannot even begin to imagine her pain."_ Spectre had attended countless funerals of agents from the KGB, FSB and other Russian military personnel. He had seen comrades, sons, daughters, fathers, sons and siblings cry as they watch the coffin descend into the ground countless times. _"The Lupo I know is strong, noble, and beautiful. I cannot bear to watch her. I wish to see her with Viper more. She looks the happiest together with him like a true mother and son regardless of blood ties."_

"You're right. They have the same eyes too. But don't forget, he is _our_ son as much as he is Lupo's. And his name is Takashi Komuro. For now."

 _"_ _I must go now."_

"Send her my regards."

 _"_ _I will. Send mine to Hector and Christine as well."_

"I will. I have to pick them up at the airport and go abroad either way. Maybe I'll go to Barcelona? I hear it's nice this time around."

 _"_ _Ah, Spain? The wine and chorizo was quite a delicacy. Might I also suggest Andalusia? The weather and view is breathtaking."_

"I'll take your word for it. Bye now."


	10. Code Black

Saeko swung her wooden sword to the right with a deafening whoosh, the tip centimeters away from Takashi's nose who took half a step back to dodge. Her lush raven hair that reached her waist gleamed as it reflected the sunlight.

"You're not stepping in deep enough or fast enough. Give it another three centimeters towards me." Another strike came from above, but Takashi dove forward and crossed his hands, catching the wooden sword by its handle at the fulcrum and pushed her back. The split second Saeko lost her balance was all the time Takashi needed as he swiped her legs out from under her, disarming her in the process.

"As expected. I still can't even lay a scratch on you," She pouted massaging her bottom as she stood up. "I do apologize for imposing on you like this, but you are the only one proficient enough to ask for such a favor." Saeko was glowing with satisfaction at the fact that she had finally found a sparring partner whom she could fight without restraint. The corners of her mouth were raised in a faint smile, and the gleam in her eye was still present.

"I need the exercise anyway so that's fine and all, but anybody other than me and they'd be dead bleeding in the moonlight." Takashi knew it was wishful thinking, but he also wanted a place where he could shoot firearms at moving targets that would fire back with impunity.

"Are you hungry, Komuro?"

"I'm always hungry after a workout."

"Perfect," As if she were waiting for that answer, Saeko pulled out a wrapping cloth and undid the knot, revealing a multitiered lunchbox. Takashi's eyes went wide with surprise and anticipation. "I made extra since you seem like quite a big eater, but I may have gone a little overboard." She cast her eyes down bashfully, with no sign of her usual composed, dignified kendo club captain that every student at the school admires. The contrast made him laugh a little.

"Not to worry. I could eat all of that any day of the week. Besides, I don't eat before exercising so I'm starving. Thank you." The tiers contained rice balls, rolled omelettes, chicken karaage, and other Japanese dishes often seen in lunch boxes. He took a huge bite out of a rice ball while Saeko held her breath. The only word that left his mouth after swallowing was "Wow."

Living almost half of his life on the run, taking the time to prepare a good meal in a kitchen was nothing short of a luxury. His usual meal were fruits (both fresh and dried), certain raw getables, canned goods and other foods that could be eaten without cooking them. Once they had arrived in Japan, Lupo and Vector (surprisingly) gave extensive lectures to everyone for cooking fin order to ensure their cover as civilians. In Takashi's mind, those two were the best cooks, but he had to admit that Saeko's culinary skills were on par or possibly superior. He ate in silence, picking at the food with a pair of chopsticks while Saeko sat beside him and stared with a satisfactory grin. He finished eating in less than half an hour. "Saeko," he said, causing her shoulders to jerk up a little in surprise having been called by her first name for the first time. "Would you mind doing this again tomorrow? And it doesn't have to be as extravagant next time."

"Of course," she nodded. "I am glad you approve." No sooner those words left her lips, she let out a small yelp of surprise as she was suddenly sprawled across the floor.

Takashi chuckled internally at the simplicity of his thought process. "Just FYI: I like my women strong, spontaneous and without hesitation." He stared down at her for what she felt was an eternity. Saeko felt the heat of Takashi's gaze trail down from her face to the nape of her neck peeking out from her training attire. His face closed into his and she instinctively wrapped her arms around Takashi as he closed in and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips remained locked together for a while until Takashi heard footsteps approaching in the corridor and pulled back, leaving Saeko dazed as she was pulled to her feet. He left her with a small "See you later," before heading to the showers.

The cold water blasted the sweat off his toned body, cooling him off. "Shit," he muttered staring into the mirrors hanging in front of the sinks on opposite sides exposed the Roman numeral seven, a coiled snake and a tribal tattoo of a wolf on his body. "Shit shit shit shit shit, why did I do that?"

The Wolfpack's credentials and other legal documents prepared for living in this country were mostly fabricated. The slightest transgression of that boundary Takashi had set could pose a threat to all of them. They would have to revert back to living life on the run again, or in the worst case, result in one, if not several, of their deaths.

Takashi himself could not understand why he did what he did just then. True, Saeko certainly was a very attractive woman, but he was not about to let a single tryst jeopardize his family's cover that had taken months and excessive amounts of money and favors to set up. He would sooner die. Physical intimacy will definitely increase, but Takashi knew he had to draw the line even deeper and harder than before. "Skive time," he said to no one in particular as he changed into the school uniform. He was in no mood to take classes. For now he preferred to be alone without his thoughts. All there was to do was take a nap or meditation exercises to turn off every switch in his heart and mind before switching them back on again, like a computer.

The weather was perfect for it too. It was April; the weather, temperature and humidity were perfect. He still had time to go to the roof for his nap. He already knows the subjects that his class will be going over, so skipping would be a minor issue.

He also had to check if the emergency bag he had hidden up there remained untouched and unfound as well.

Saeko, on the other hand, was still staring off into space at the school dojo after having her first kiss stolen. She continued to stroke her lips and turn red as if she could still feel his cool lips. Now that she thought back, it was probably love at first sight.

When she was being assaulted , a boy younger than her, whom she believed to have had no formal training in the martial arts, sent a full grown man flying off his feet like a piece of paper caught in the wind. His attack was powerful yet graceful and had neither doubt nor hesitation. It would be a sin to not respect and admire anyone who can move like he did. Her eyes fixed on to Takashi's for a split second, and instantly she was drawn in by the mature atmosphere he had around him as well as the blade-like aura of killing intent which he wore so naturally like his skin. Having left such a strong impression, Saeko vowed to never forget this event and his face.

Much to Saeko's dismay, Takashi did not remember her after miraculously reuniting at Fujimi Academy and explaining when and where they met. However, the fact that their paths crossed again and the knowledge of his proficiency in the martial arts made her heart leap with joy that surpassed her initial disappointment.

Once she asked for a sparring bout out of curiosity after school, but soon learned the hard way that Takashi's combat skills were in another dimension. With or without weapons, she always lost in the blink of an eye, but this only strengthened her desire to become stronger and be accepted by Takashi.

After taking several deep breaths and slapping herself on both cheeks, she picked up her wooden sword and began practicing her swings.

"Fuck!" It was no use. Even after an hour long nap and a meditation session, nothing seemed to change. And something was tingling in the back of his mind, a sensation which he had not felt in forever: the sixth sense that had saved the Wolfpack and himself from danger countless times was sending an alarm. "Showtime," he whispered as he pulled two tiles off the floor and pulled out a duffel bag hidden underneath the hollowed out space.

He pulled off his school uniform and changed into a black tank-top, kevlar vest, plate carrier, cargo pants with an urban camouflage pattern, shooting gloves and steel toed boots. He confirmed the objects in their respective pockets by touch: cell phone, zippo lighter, swiss army tool knife, an LED penlight, a waterproof notepad, and a pack of mint gum. They were all there. "Moving on to weapons check," Takashi whispered to nobody in particular. His smile was wide, one; feral and predatory. He can finally be back to who he is. Not Takashi Komuro the average high school student, but Viper. The ruthless, cold-blooded assassin, the man with luck and a sixth sense that had saved the Wolfpack countless times.

Takashi's cache of weapons included a H&K USP and an MP7A1, both complete with laser pointers, a suppressor and other accessories. Once he assembled the guns, he moved on to the fully loaded magazines kept in an airtight bag and stuffed them into the respective pouches. Strapping a padded belt with various pouches and holsters, he proceeded to stuff his gear into the respective recesses.

Every step of the process putting weapons and tools in its place felt refreshing like the layers upon layers of lies and deception were getting peeled off and being exposed to the open after the longest time. He could not help but feel an upsurge of joy and relief.

As he was about to reach for the last of his weapons, he heard a clang of metal coming from the main entrance of the school property. Keeping his head down, Takashi pulled out a pair of binoculars to investigate. There was a man in a business suit repeatedly walking into the gate, which was the cause of the noise. Several members of the faculty noticed this, and the gym teacher as well as several other male faculty members were handling the situation.

The blaring alarm in Takashi's head intensified.

—- _Son of a bitch!_

Zooming into the businessman's face, he noticed the man's eyes were glossy. He attempted neither to open or climb over the gate, but kept walking into it in a machine like manner with no hint of intelligence or consciousness. Both were initial symptoms of those infected by the T-Virus.

The gym teacher reached through the iron bars and grabbed the man by his shirt, shaking him violently. At first there was no reaction, but after that moment of apathy, the man in the suit sank his teeth into the arm, tearing off a large portion.

It was beginning again. The war zone, the nightmare of Raccoon City had come back from the dead. There was no time to waste. If that really was indeed the T-Virus, he had to act fast. The last of the weapons were Takashi's "fangs", a box with five knives in them: a pair of T-shaped push daggers, a pair of combat knives, and a bayonet which was over 15 inches in length.

"Wolf-7, codename Viper. Standing by, reporting as ordered." He was complete; his true self was finally complete. Pushing whatever spare resources into a knapsack, he then pulled out a satellite phone and dialed a number. Once the call went through, he spoke in a clear voice, "Code black. I repeat, code _black._ Operation Four Horsemen."

 _"_ _Head to the safe house,"_ Spectre's voice crackled, _"Lupo and I will collect the other four and rendezvous with you there."_

"Where is everyone?"

 _"_ _Shooting range in Guam for a little over a month now. You?"_

"School, duh." Takashi snorted.

 _"_ _Get out of there ASAP. Get to the safe house in the next 24 hours. We will be there from Tokonosu airport as quick as we can. Hang on until then."_

"Copy that."

 _"_ _Oh and that girl who seems very interested in you? I did a quick check and she is clean. Bring her along if you wish. She is combat proficient, from what I found."_

Takashi snorted in response to Spectre's joke. "I am not letting someone weaker than me cover my six."

 _"_ _Oh, come on, everyone needs some backup. Also, I have a pupil in the Far Eastern branch of the BSAA's wet works team at the airport, a former member of the MPD's SAT by the name of Rika Minami, a sniper. A friend of hers is in the school's employ as a nurse, and she would appreciate it if you could bring her along as well."_

Although it was only thrice, Takashi remembered Rika well. A stellar police officer and sniper who quickly rose through the ranks in the patriarchal society of law enforcement, eventually becoming captain of the first platoon of SAT. Even by the Wolfpack's high standards, she was very skilled, and it was no surprise the BSAA recruited her. "Why me, though?" he whined.

 _"_ _I wasn't done explaining yet. Her friend is a pupil of Bertha and Four Eyes. She is a bit of a….how do you say? Airhead? Yes, but she does have medical expertise. Better to have two doctors than one, no?"_

"Urgh, _fine!_ " Takashi grumbled, "I'll see you at the safe house." Tossing the phone into his bag again, he stood up, when a school wide broadcast abruptly came up. One of the bitten teachers have entered the buildings. After a blood curdling scream, the entire school grounds seemed to go silent for about a minute before students and teachers began to scramble madly for the exit. Those that were not fast enough were trampled underfoot. The commotion was audible all the way to the ceiling.

Hearing this, Takashi began to laugh as he clutched his sides. Never had he ever imagined that fate would set the stage so perfectly to be himself. There was no need to hide or hold himself back. He popped the contact lenses to change his eye color to a dark brown, exposing his blue ones, but soon hid them behind a gas mask which he pulled over his head as he started down the stairs.


	11. Plan On The Fly

Here we go! And I have over 1000 views! THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH READERS & WRITERS!

* * *

Takashi took action once the screams and shouts of anger, fear, and pain subsided to some degree. He descended the stairs leading to the grisly hell infested with the living dead quickly but quietly. Seeing the blood, the bodies, and the corpses walking around after over a decade, he could not help himself. He pulled the gas mask off and took in the thick stench of death into his lungs like a recovering addict taking a dose of narcotics. He could barely contain the tremble of ecstatic joy and excitement in his chest, but his mind was clear, clearer than it has been since he went in hiding.

His two objectives were simple: escape and survive no matter what the cost. Scanning the hallways, there were already quite a few infected in his immediate area. The hallways were wide enough to take at least four people to make a wall. Taking all of them down would deplete his reserve of ammunition in a matter of minutes.

Then an idea struck his mind. The chemistry lab was on the fourth floor where he is right now, a little over ten meters away. Two floors directly below that was the faculty office. Releasing the safety on the MP7A1 and setting it to semiautomatic fire, he began to open fire with deadly accuracy. Every trigger pull made the gun jolt slightly, sending a slight shock to his right shoulder, spraying the contents of the infected people's heads all over the area and making them topple on top of each other like marionettes with their strings cut off. Once there was a large enough gap, Takashi dashed through.

Throwing the chemistry lab's door open, Takashi began to raid the shelves cluttered with chemicals. After taking bottles of nitric acid, sulfuric acid and glycerin, he took a large beaker from the sink and started pouring them into it. Then he sliced the gas tubes connected to the bunsen burners and opened the gas main. He moved out into the veranda and from within his bag pulled out some rope used for mountain climbing and tied it to the parapet. Wrapping the rope around his arm, Takashi took a breath and jumped off the veranda, whooping with glee while he descended to the second floor. Just as he put his foot on the ledge, a deafening explosion shook the air, activating the fire alarm letting loose a cacophonous blaring sound. "Gotta love me some nitroglycerin with a touch of gasoline," Takashi chuckled as flecks of glass and pieces of flesh that have been burned to a crisp began raining down on the school grounds. Once he reached the second floor veranda, the window was slightly ajar for ventilation purposes (and to cut back on electricity bills) as he suspected.

"Now to commandeer a car. Keys, keys, keys…." He began opening up desk drawers and unceremoniously dumping the contents out on the table to look for car keys belonging to the teachers. Most of them are probably infected by now and will have no use for them either way. As a holder of the driver licenses of both motorcycles and cars, make and model were of little importance. Then he remembered the principal drove a secondhand Lexus IS-F, a car with a wide body and high horsepower. Just as he found them the door leading to the hallway slid open, and Takashi immediately ducked down to hide.

The people that came in were Saeko armed with her wooden sword and a blonde woman in holding a brown leather doctor bag. Judging by the lab coat hanging out of it she was the school nurse. Her skirt was torn up to her waist—-in order to make running easier, no doubt—revealing her fleshy thigh as well as her pastel purple underwear.

A few moments later, a squat boy wearing glasses and a pink haired girl with pigtails covered in blood stumbled in after the pair. And by some coincidence, Takashi was acquainted with all of them. Besides Saeko, the nurse Shizuka Marikawa, and the other pair was Kota Hirano and Saya Takagi. "None of you were bitten, correct?"

"I'm alright!"

"Same here."

Shizuka hobbled over to the desk that she usually uses and lay face down on it with a heavy sigh. It was only natural; something out of science fiction became a terrifying reality more sudden than a sudden rain. The fire alarm was part of the reason as well.

Kota on the other hand, was diligently making an effort to move tables and chairs in front of the door to make a barricade, but due to his lack of daily exercise and his smaller-than-average physique wore him out quickly.

"Dammit, fatty! The least you could do is exercise a bit!"

"But his foresight to immediately begin constructing a barricade after coming here is commendable, no?" Saeko's eyes flicked towards the makeshift weapon Kota was using: a nail gun with a makeshift stock duct taped to the back end and front and rear sights made with a broken pencil and an eraser cut in half. "And it seems that he was the one protecting you on your way here. I believe you owe him a word of gratitude for his efforts."

Saya said nothing to Saeko's words, grumbling that she was going to wash her face.

Takashi then stood up, the fire alarm getting on his nerves.

"Is….is that really you? Komuro?"

"Yep." Takashi's original plan was to use the fire alarm to his advantage and use the entire school as bait. While both infected and people alike were discombobulated by the alarm, he would obtain car keys, go through the main gate to the parking lot and drive away, but finding the keys took longer than he had anticipated.

"And those clothes….what…" To Saeko, Takashi looked like a soldier that just popped out of the silver screen into real life. She knew it was not the time or place, but she could not take her eyes off of him. They looked good on him and the dark colors made his eyes stand out all the more, deep and enticing like the sea itself.

"Bring the other three, it's too loud here. And be quick. If you're left behind, you stay behind." Moving the barricade out of the way with his foot, he headed for the stairs leading to the ground floor as he trampled the infected underfoot. The other four hurried after Takashi.

Shooting the infected in front of him, He pressed through the gaps in their ranks. Those that were not shot had their heads crushed by courtesy of Saeko's wooden sword. Glancing backwards, Takashi saw Kota doing everything he can to keep up, all while covering Saya and making headshots.

Clicking the remote key several times, Takashi saw the lights of a black car flicker and unlock. Jamming the keys into the car, he gunned the engine. The car roared like a beast as it tore across the asphalt, through the gate, and away from the school.

After taking several minutes to catch their breath, four of the five passengers loosened sighs of relief and exhaustion from their mouths.

"I guess we're safe….for now, at least." Saeko said through her deep breaths in order to collect herself.

"Yeah, guess you could say that….damn I'm tired. Oh, and uh, thanks for the help Komuro."

"Mm-hmm." Takashi dismissed Kota's gratitude with a wave and turned the wheel. After putting enough distance from the school, he stopped the car and pulled out the satellite phone once more to call Spectre.

 _"_ _Any damage to the packages?"_

Takashi hesitated in his answer, but realizing that Spectre just spoke in Russian, he decided to answer in kind. "None. But I picked up two more…unexpected packages. Two more than I originally intended."

 _"_ _What happened?"_

"A lot more calm people than I anticipated. I'm sorry. They saw me as well."

 _"_ _No need to worry about that for now, it's only a matter of time before that becomes irrelevant. We are about to take off from Guam. ETA to Tokonosu Airport is four hours. From there we will use an aircraft that we all chipped in to acquire."_

"Copy that. I'll call you once I get to the safe house."

 _"_ _Don't die on us now."_

"Aye, sir." He ended the call and shut the phone off, bringing silence again.

"Komuro, what were those things? Where did you get those weapons? And who are you? You looked….very accustomed to this sort of situation."

"Too many questions. Oh, and by the way, Takashi Komuro is a fake name I pulled out of a hat when I was making a fake passport in Japan. Don't call me that. In my opinion, Takashi is a generic name, and it's lame as shit."

"This isn't the time for jokes! You are _not_ in a spy flick, so stop spouting nonsense!"

"I like listening to jokes, but frankly I suck at coming up with them. I'm an expert in the art of sarcasm though." He threw a glance towards the mirror and Saya averted her gaze.

This boy who insists that he is _not_ who he says he was, is a childhood friend of hers. She did not have any romantic feelings for him, but she did not exactly hate him either. While he was a rather taciturn one, he was kind where it counts, and on top of that, he had a carefree personality and a virtuoso in many fields. As someone who prides herself for her genius level intellect, ignoring him was not an option for Saya. She even challenged him for higher examination scores from time to time.

However, the boy's rejection of that name seemed to her like a rejection of all the memories that she has had with him up to now. While she did her best not to show it, she was confused and terrified on the inside.

"What your true name is matters not. And you still haven't answered my questions." Saeko poked him in the shoulder with a finger from the back seat.

"As for my seemingly acclimated mannerisms, the answer is yes, I am used to shit like this. As for what those things are, based on my experience, it's the product of a weaponized pathogen; a bioweapon. It looks pretty similar to the stuff I've seen with minor discrepancies in the details. And to the question for who I really am, my preferred name is Ryuji Mikage. Anything beyond that, I'm gonna plead the fifth." He took the satellite phone on his lap and tossed it back to the passengers in the back. "If you gotta call someone, be my guest. Just don't break it. Those aren't cheap and the chances of coming across a functioning one is astronomical."

"Will it…..go through to numbers overseas?"

"As long as they're within cell range and their phone isn't shut off." He answered starting the car again.

Takashi Komuro—or Ryuji Mikage, or whoever he really was—was one of the few people that Kota trusted. His knowledge of guns, tanks, military vehicles and more was beyond extensive. He understood all the references from his favorite movies. It was enough for Kota to give him respect and trust. And now it was increasing by the minute.

Even if he could contact his parents right now, there was nothing he could do to save him. If today really was the first page of the apocalypse, he might as well follow this super soldier to the bitter end. He held the satellite phone for a while, but held it out to Saya. "Go ahead. My parents both work overseas; my dad's a jewel merchant who's in Amsterdam right now and my mom is a fashion designer in Paris.

" _WHAT THE HELL IS IT WITH YOU PEOPLE AND YOUR GODDAMN BACKSTORIES THAT MAKE SHITTY NOVELS AWARD-WORTHY!?_ " Saya screamed at the top of her lungs.

"In a manga would your grandfather be a captain of a cruiser?" Shizuka asked, giggling a bit.

"Actually, he was. My grandmother was a violinist in a concert…" Kota scratched his head bashfully while Saya just hung her head in disbelief listening to his family members' occupations. "So, are you gonna use it?"

"Gimme that." She snatched the phone from his grasp and made a call. Once the call went through, there was a brightness in her expression which was never seen until now as she spoke. "Both of them are alive. They're safe."

"Good for you. Oh, uh, don't you have to phone a parent, Ms. Busujima?"

"Mm…Well, I live with my father and he is teaching in a dojo overseas. And for some reason he hates cell phones and does not have one. I will go wherever our driver goes."

"And you, Ms. Shizuka?"

"My parents have been dead for a while now and I don't have any family in the area, so I'll stick with you kids. Oh, but…I do want to check on a friend if that's okay."

"Something-or-other Minami, right? From the BSAA?"

Shizuka's eyes widened in shock as she turned her head towards the driver seat. Besides the knowledge of her friend, but the BSAA was an organization established after Umbrella was dismantled, and was no different from military special forces. Very few people are privy to that information, including its existence and its agents.

"Oh come on, it's not that hard to search things on Google. I just typed in bioterrorism and Umbrella Corporation comes up. There are several people who wrote books based on their experiences."

"You know Rika?"

"A bit, yeah. Ex-SAT of MPD, right? She's a friend of my family; taught her how to shoot straight and true. I was told to bring you, her friend, to my place. The two people who taught you how to become a doctor should drop by too."

"WHAT?! Professor Schneider _and_ Dr. Yamata?"

"The very same," Ryuji chuckled, remembering that both of them loved environments where they could demonstrate their knowledge. And he was slightly unnerved that they both used their real names.

"God, it's been so long…." Shizuka's optimism (which she is known for in the nurse's office) returned, and began dialing her friend. The three in the back began smiled a bit as well.

"Okay, I have two people who clearly stated they'll be sticking with me. I can send Takagi to her home since they're safe….what say you, private Hirano?"

Kota paused, unsure of what to do. Maybe his heightened sense of respect and friendship was leading him astray. In front of him was a friend he respected, and next to him was the girl he had a crush on. If he chooses one, he will lose the other, forever if this crisis does not solve itself soon.

"Ah, take you time man. For now our prime objective is to get past one of the bridges."

All that was left to do was pray nothing else will happen on the way to the safe house.


	12. Snake Bite

The sky and sea were an infuriatingly refreshing blue despite the fact that the world had turned on its head and all hell had broken loose. All four corners showed an endless horizon between the two azure shades. Flying in between them was an HU-16.

"Tokonosu Tower, this is Fenrir 269 Tango, we've lifted off from Guam several hours ago. Requesting permission for an emergency landing. We are running low on fuel. Our ETA to you is exactly one hour. Do you have an open runway? Over."

 _"_ _Fenrir 269 Tango, this is Tokonosu Tower. We do not have a runway available as of now. But MPD's SAT has just secured runway D where flight JX089 will be taking off. We will inform you once they are in the air. Over."_

"Tokonosu Tower, roger that and thank you. Over and out." Ending the transmission, Vladimir pulled the headset off, leaving the controls to Hector. Opening the door leading out of the cockpit revealed his four other brothers and sisters in arms all wearing tactical gear, loading weapons, and double checking the functionality of their arsenal. There were Glocks, AK47, G36C, Colt M1911A1s, Steyr AUG a Browning Hi-Power, and M79 grenade launcher complete with an assortment of 40mm shells resting on the footlocker used as a makeshift table. "Michaela, you're sure this will be enough to last until we rendezvous?"

" _Ja,_ as long as we make every shot count and know when to not shoot. It would be a waste, you know? That was one of the last drug kingpin's operation, so we might as well put it to good use. And we have a lot more in that safe house." A twisted grin came upon Michaela as she sharpened her machete.

"Indeed, I had my Bratva brothers transport it." He stroked his chin as his thoughts went back to them dressed in moving company attire, carrying in boxes one after the other. "An excellent buy, paired with Michaela's connections giving us a significant discount. H&K XM8s, FN FNP45s per Vector's request along with suppressors; then there are the shotguns, my rifles, RPGs, C4, two cases of every grenade on the market, spare tactical gear, two HMVs with EMP countermeasures, a faraday cage, satellite phones, computers, medical and surgery supplies, and the safe house itself. Coupled with the ammo we've been acquiring over the years, it was quite a hefty purchase."

"I don't hear you complaining, Vlad," she snorted, sheathing her blade, satisfied with its condition. "And extracting and selling information without you at the helm negotiating is quite difficult. Being able to buy the means to survive will be the least of our problems now."

Of course, that was not the only reason they have been able to survive this long, but it indeed was one of the larger contributing factors. Upon the collapse of society's infrastructure, there are many necessities, which they have in ample amounts. All they have to do now was wait out the storm."

"Vladimir," Karena asked, "how was our son doing?"

"Well, according to the latest footage from the satellite, he blew up a building, stole some poor idiot's Lexus and is en route to our safe house with four other passengers. One of them a former pupil of Michaela and Christine's, another who undoubtedly is fond of Ryuji. As for the other two, your guess is as good as mine."

"I'm sure he will be fine. He is our son, after all."

"Oh, come now, Karena," Michaela chided, proceeding to poke her in the side with her fingers, "I know you want to call him _your_ son in your heart."

"I wouldn't keep teasing her if I were you, Michaela." Vector interjected, holstering his loaded Colt, "Once we land, even Hector won't be able to spout a joke."

"I guess so. Now that we think about it, we are all middle-aged, aren't we?"

Christine, who was the youngest of the six, had already reached forty. While at a glance it is unnoticeable, but Karena, the oldest, had reached age fifty. Of course she continued to train but even she could not triumph against the passage of time. All of them had to admit that the prime of their strength and skill was passing.

"You say that Micha, but Chris, you and Karena are still beautiful in my honest opinion," Hector poked his head through the door after setting the aircraft to auto-pilot with a cigarette in his mouth.

"Oh, Hector. Always so sweet. Don't you think so, Christine?" Michaela turned her head to Christine, who had turned her back on them in embarrassment, but silently mouthed her gratitude to his compliments.

After driving for a while, Ryuji switched seats with Shizuka. While her driving was somewhat reckless due to it being an unfamiliar vehicle, she began to steady herself after a while. "Um, Kom….I mean, Mikage. Do you know how exactly this happened?"

"How exactly, indeed. Well, regardless of the occurrence being intentional or otherwise, I can tell you from experience that this is most definitely a man-made disaster." While answering Kota's questions, Ryuji tapped on the keyboard of his laptop which was stashed away in the bag, checking up on the current events of the other countries and their attempts at controlling the situation. If it were just in Japan, then there still was another chance.

But his hopes were betrayed rather quickly. Not only Japan, but Russia, America, and China were facing the same crisis. The BSAA had their hands full with helping the local law enforcement and figuring out how this came about.

"Man-made disaster?" Saya frowned.

"Yeah. You ever hear of an international corporation called Umbrella going bankrupt back in 2004?"

"I heard about that a bit. Something about BOWs, right? What does that stand for again?" Everyone silently slapped their foreheads at Shizuka's words.

"Bio-organic weapon, hence BOW. Besides making cold medicines, vitamin pills and aspirin, they were doing research and development of weaponized organisms. There were branches in every other country so bitchslapping officials with their choice of currency was no problem." Everyone else gasped at Ryuji's words. "The virus is called the T-Virus; T for tyrant, just so you know. This fucker will make the bubonic plague and the Spanish flu seem like pollen allergy."

"Tell me everything you know about that virus? How bad is it? How fucked are we?" Saya leaned forward from the backseat in a tone that implied she was not going to take no for an answer.

"Probability of infection is over ninety percent with numerous routes for it to spread," Ryuji went on, since he had no reason not to. "It can be an inhalant initially when it first gets spread through the air, but other routes could be the body fluids from someone infected, waters, and wounds received from the infected. The nasty part is that it has a high range of potential targets."

"High range of…..oh, fucking hell." The blood drained from Saya's face as it twisted into a countenance of horror upon her realization. "No…no no no no no, it can't be. You mean…? Besides humans?"

"Correctamundo. Not just humans, but animals, insects, even plants. The time it takes to turn varies individually, but the weaker your body's systems are, the faster the process." It was ages ago since Christine first showed him footage of the symptoms after contracting the T-Virus as well as characteristics, but he still remembers them as clear as day.

It starts out with an itchiness all over the body, high fevers and a decreased level consciousness. Intelligence and memory gradually deteriorate, and appetite grows due to metabolic anomalies. Once completely infected, patients act based on hunger and instinct. In a matter of two weeks, their bodies deteriorated faster than a regular body would be broken down into bones on a hot summer day.

According to her it was due to the compromised balance of cells' necroses and division; and yet they were still alive.

"What the fuck…?"

"Hey, it ain't all bad, you know? You kill 'em like you do in the movies. Go for the head, destroy the brain, or disintegrate the entire body altogether. For the latter you'll need a flame thrower, napalm canisters or a thermobaric explosive. Also this is just a hunch, but if this shitstorm was caused by a virus, it's something similar to T but it's not T." The incongruity came to Ryuji back when he was up on the roof. The gym teacher took approximately forty seconds before turning, and the other teacher who tried to help him up took a minute. While the effects of the T-Virus to spread does indeed vary, it would take at least a quarter of an hour. It was too fast. In addition, the infected at the school were moving slower than the average person's walking speed. A healthy person infected by the T-Virus was capable of bounding sprints.

The cinching factor was what he saw from the car window. The infected paid no attention to any animals and went straight for humans. At least they would not have to deal with anything faster or airborne.

"Who would do such a thing?" Ryuji shrugged at Saeko's question. She had just finished wiping the blood off her wooden sword with a rag.

"Not important right now. The world has gone to shit and we do not have a high chance of finding the guy. We'll worry about that _after_ this storm blows over." It could be an international bioterrorism attack but it was unlikely. The BSAA would have caught wind of an organization pulling off an attack that big long ago. Besides, the terrorists themselves would want to avoid dying like fools at the hands of their own weapon that they unleashed.

The passengers of the car fell silent yet again. Unable to bear the heaviness of the atmosphere, Ryuji connected his i-pod to the car and started playing music. A song was chosen at random in shuffle mode, and "Ticking Bomb" by Aloe Black began to play. Considering the situation, the song was appropriate in an eery way with its calming vocals and rhythm.

 _The whole world's sittin' on a ticking bomb_

 _The whole world's sittin' on a ticking bomb_

 _So keep your calm and carry on_

 _The whole world's sittin' on a ticking bomb_

 _The sun may never rise again_

 _The question ain't if but when_

 _The sea will mourn and the sky will fall_

 _The sun may never rise again_

"Seriously?! Can't you pick something better? I will listen to Justin Bieber than listen to this depressing crap!" Saya gave Ryuji her best death glare.

"Use your own MP3 player if you want to listen to something different. Would you prefer to listen to the Beatles' 'Yellow Submarine'? It's perfect to avert your eyes from situations like this. This, though, is a great song. Every nation have time bombs—-nukes—-in their hands, pointing their ICBMs and other WMDs in the most complicated Mexican standoff that would make the Roman emperors' family tree shit its pants." To him, the song was the very symbol of the human condition which brings about the impulse of self-destruction and conflict: better grades, seeking employment, promotions, court cases, elections, and war. All of these things are a source of conflict, to not end up in defeat with the short end of the stick.

"Ms. Shizuka, where are we heading right now?" Kota asked, craning his head to the side to look at the GPS through the middle.

"It says we're going towards Tokonosu Bridge." Apparently the principal was not a mechanical aficionado since his GPS was a simple and rather old model.

"We need to stop somewhere for a short break," Ryuji muttered as he peered through a pair of binoculars toward the bridge, which was utterly inundated with people and cars. "And the bridge is jam-packed, so we'll go another way. More importantly, I'm hungry."

"Me too." Kota concurred, rubbing his growling stomach.

"Figures. Ms. Shizuka, there's a gas station two kilometers westward. Drive safe."

" 'Kaaaay, got it." The rear window suddenly exploded, showering the passengers in the back with millions of the shards. In the rear view mirror, Ryuji saw several men riding scooters and motorcycles with a relatively low power output, inadvertently drawing more infected towards them as they revved the engine. Several of them were armed with handguns, most likely taken from the corpses of fallen police officers. "What the hell just happened?!" Shizuka screamed.

"We're under attack. Kota, hit the front wheel from the back, everyone else stay down. Don't blame me if you catch a stray bullet." He handed Kota the MP7A1 with the suppressor still screwed on to the muzzle.

"Holy shit this is a Heckler & Koch MP7A1! And it's decked out with accessories! This thing is one fucking accurate and quiet PDW! How the hell did you get your hands on this thing?!" Kota inspected the weapon from every angle as if it were a piece of priceless artwork, his eyes bedazzled.

"Classified. Send those fuckers to Broadway. And make them all count." Ryuji stepped out of the car with his sidearm drawn, quickly screwing on the suppressor. Kota had already begun firing, the tire exploding and sending the driver and passengers flying off the handlebars and onto the asphalt. Others began running in a zigzag in an attempt to not get hit, but their attempts only succeeded in making Ryuji laugh. Shooting a nonmoving target whilst standing still was one thing, but shooting a moving object while moving yourself was impossible for amateurs. Without bothering to take cover, he quickened his walking pace, and began firing himself.

The men who assaulted Ryuji and the company all had broken bones, dislocated joints and lacerations of varying degrees but were still alive. Ryuji kicked and shoved them into one spot at gunpoint. "Alright, you amateur, dickless pieces of shits. You just had to show up when I just finished formulating a plan and was about to put it into motion." He lashed out with a vicious kick to one of the men in his chest, who doubled over in pain, gasping and whimpering. Another kick to his throat collapsed his trachea, silencing him forever. "Now I hate to stomp on your ego and piss on it, but I have been under fire countless times in the past. And that one," he continued, holstering his USP, "by far, was the safest experience. Now, there are a lot of things that will piss me off, but one of the big ones I have zero tolerance for is wasting bullets on fuckers like you. So, you're going to have to reimburse me. With your lives."

While their fastening of the helmets for driving allowed them to cling on to life, but after the injuries they have sustained, it was impossible to flee. Ryuji took his time starting after them like a venomous snake slowly closing in for the kill, drawing his knives, sinking them into their bodies and carving them up one by one.

The blades punctured the skin and sliced through flesh with barely any resistance. He ripped pen their sides, pierced their knees, chests, the hollows of their napes, and severed tendons and arteries. Dominance brought about an inexplicable exhilaration about, the feeling of the blades grating against bone made his heart leap with joy. Goosebumps rippled across his skin seeing faces contort in pain, twitch in fear as they die.

The unfortunate ones who were not killed mercifully received wounds only centimeters away from a vital spots several times, and were finally allowed to die.

The last one—a young man in his mid-twenties—-was drenched in a cold sweat as he saw the crescent shaped smile of his attacker and the cold eyes. It was not something that he would feel in a haunted house. No. This was true fear, the sensation of having his heart getting doused in ice cold water. His breathing became shallow and erratic, causing him to hyperventilate.

What is this _thing?_

What is that smile?

Why is he so happy?

Why can he _kill_ happy?

He could not comprehend it, which fanned the flames of his fear all the more. It made him wonder in the madness of fear if the prey of venomous snakes go through the same experience, writhing in pain as the poison burns in their veins. His mind was screaming to run, but his body was failing to move.

The last sound he heard was a sharp snapping like a trampled fallen branch.

Letting the body fall and kicking it to the curb, Ryuji wiped the blood drenching his face and cleaned his knife blade with their shirts. Quickly searching them, he retrieved several items from their bodies, including their police issue revolvers that they were using. He tossed them to Kota and took his gun back.

Pulling out the last crimped cigarette from the crushed pack, he lit it and took a long drag before blowing rings of smoke into the air.

"Dude, seriously?" Kota frowned as his friend kept going. "You know that's bad for you right?"

"Oh, pipe down," he replied before taking another drag, "I'm not taking it into my lungs. I am older than you are; I'm over eighteen, but I just look young. And just so you know, you have not lived until you've smoked freshly made Cohibas while kicking it in Cuba at a hotel with a bacardi mojito in your hand. Anyways, I digress. Let's get a move on. Now I'm in a really good move after having myself a fresh kill in a while. I'm even hungrier now after that. Killing makes me hungry."


	13. Affection, Respect, Or Fear

Whew! Many profuse apologies, readers and writers. This spring term has been a death march! And thank you for the people who have favorited this fanfic after this ridiculous hiatus. Spring break is coming up so I should have a lot more time to write. Stay tuned!

Warning: I own nothing in both HOTD and the Resident Evil series except this story. Please support the official release

* * *

Everyone remained silent until they reached the gas station, except for Ryuji who was in a good mood.

"Why? Why'd they shoot at us? We're not…..we're not dead. We're not those….those _things._ " Saya cradled her head in her arms after carefully sweeping the shards of glass off the seats. The fear of being shot at was still lingering in her mind. Saeko patted her on the back in an attempt to calm her down.

"Not everyone can acclimate themselves to this world, Takagi. Anyone would want to believe that this is all a bad joke, a bad dream. Their actions are just their way of escaping reality." Kota stole several glances at Ryuji via the side mirror. He had killed more than two dozen infected to escape the school grounds. At this point, he knew that he could do the same to regular human beings should it come down to that.

Guns and other projectile weapons are simply pointed towards the target and shot at, but what Ryuji did, he could never hope to do. Kota knew not where he learned those deadly techniques, but in those few minutes of carnage, every fiber of Ryuji's being was oozing deadly accuracy that not even a handful of the best soldiers could hope to acquire. "What the hell am I supposed to do?" He muttered quietly to himself.

During a summer he spent in America, he took lessons at a PMC known as Blackwater from an ex-sergeant major who served in the Delta Force on how to use weapons, driving, and operating explosives, and told his war stories during the war in Afghanistan.

The trigger of a gun is lighter than anyone anticipates. Killing from afar does not weigh in on the heart as much. There was even a joke about what snipers feel after a successful shot with the answer being 'recoil'. But CQC is a whole another story. The instructor's tone of voice dropped an octave when he said that. His first kill in combat was when he was fresh out of training when his knife blade somehow found its way to his attacker's brain via below the jaw.

That was when the waves of the cold truth hit fast and hard: the enemy—-whomever they may be—was now dead. The shock from the blade travels throughout the entire body as if the knife were a part of the hand, feeling numbingly cold but scorchingly hot at the same time. After checking that the man was indeed dead, he immediately threw up, unable to ingest even a sip of water.

Yet Ryuji took their lives with knives and his bare hands with consummate ease as if it were as easy as breathing or blinking. Kota understood the logic of saving bullets and could relate to it, but seeing someone tear people apart with glee gave him the illusion that the temperature suddenly plummeted around them. And Ryuji mentioned that it had been a while, meaning he is _experienced_. In _murder_. Not just infected, but normal, healthy human beings. The twinge of doubt in his mind grew, questioning whether he should continue following him. Could he, a rookie who had just acquired the taste of killing, catch up to this super soldier who has been trained specifically to end lives?

"Right here, Doc. Right here." Shizuka said nothing as she pulled over near the pump. She kept her head down as instructed for the whole time, but from the screams and Ryuji returning with his body and face stained in blood, it was not difficult to imagine what happened.

He claimed to know her teachers that had taught her everything she knows to become a doctor. They did meet every now and then, coming in with bloody knuckles asking for bandages and some rubbing alcohol or doing heavy lifting for her. They did not talk much.

The mystery surrounding him in school as well as his private life was a popular subject amongst the girls, although Ryuji himself seemed uninterested. But so were her teachers. In fact, both of them were visiting lecturers whose private lives remained a mystery.

"Now then, I'm going to be filling the car up so you three in the back, go to that Seven-Eleven right over yonder and get some food and other supplies that we could use. Once you come back, I'll go." Ryuji pulled a wad of bills out from his wallet and jammed them into the self service stand and began refueling, all the while keeping his right hand on his USP and looking around at least every half a minute.

"Hey," Shizuka poked her head through the driver seat's window, "How'd professor Schneider and Professor Yamata meet each other?" Now that the three were gone, she thought it was the perfect time to ask.

"BFFs of my foster parents. They tutored me for free." It wasn't a lie. All six of them had been teaching him throughout his youth. Vladimir taught mathematics, Russian, and computer programming; Hector taught Spanish, chemistry and engineering; Michaela and Christine taught German and biology; Vector taught Japanese and psychology; Karena taught him French and history, but was also in charge of making sure Ryuji didn't slack off. While she was a loving, caring woman, she had high standards, and he was more than happy to please her and surpass her expectations.

"Then….how did you get your guns and stuff?"

"That's a secret." Damn. Not even a chink to poke for. "Doc, I like your enthusiasm for learning, but don't pry into my family matters. The world may have began it's grand descent towards an apocalyptic shit-storm, but I need you to respect privacy. And you know curiosity doesn't just kill the proverbial cat, right?"

The word 'kill' was enough to make Shizuka clamp her mouth shut and pull her head back inside the car. Putting the pump back, he opened the door, motioning with a tilt of his head to switch seats. She scrambled over to the other side of the car, tripping over herself on the way. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna kill _you_. As long as you don't jeopardize my safety —-which is easier said than done— or try to kill me. Try either one and your head'll roll." He tapped his neck with the side of his finger, mocking a beheading. "I will answer all your questions, okay? Just not know. Not everyone is eligible to listen. If you don't ask me anything about those two until we reach the safe house, I will answer all your questions."

Shizuka was hesitant. While he did save her and three other students' lives albeit incidentally, she was not sure how far she could trust someone who has (what she assumed to be) fake credentials pushed through the system. Noticing that, Ryuji snickered a bit. "Not surprising if you don't see me as trustworthy. I won't beg you to. But you will have to swallow it once you hear from them."

Once he saw the trio emerge from the convenience store with baskets full of supplies he ended the conversation and began browsing through his playlist for the next song to play on the road.

While the two were talking outside, Kota, Saya and Saeko were raiding the convenience store of food, drinks and anything else they could use.

The air was heavy like a damp and musty cellar as nobody spoke a word. Kota sighed his umpteenth sigh as he tossed packs of gum and dried food into the basket. Eventually, the sigh sparked Saya's irritation into a wildfire of anger, causing her to throw a bag of chips at his head. "Will you knock it off, you fatass otaku!" But Kota said nothing and kept going.

"Takagi, keep your voice down," Saeko hissed, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We may have company. Besides, regardless of it being for self defense, he saw men die up close. It's only natural to feel depressed."

"That's….that's not it, actually. I've taken out many of those infected before we left the school. I could probably kill regular people if I was given the opportunity. But I can only do that with projectile weapons. But Mikage…." The basket in Kota's hands rattled as it shook violently as the image of that face resurfaced. The face of certain victory knowing his prey is powerless, and those eyes of death staring through the eyes and into the heart… "He was enjoying killing them. I've never been so scared of anything in my life. And my head is spinning with what I should do next after we reach his safe house." He wiped the tears welling up behind his glasses with a sleeve.

"Not to worry. He told you to take your time, did he not? Then there's no reason to rush your answer."

Kota nodded and started towards the automatic door.

Saeko, on the other hand, was beyond infatuated with him now. She had secretly been watching him from the shattered rear window after the gunfire ceased. Every instant blades sank into vital spots made her heart skip several beats. Every instance of blood gushing forth from wounds made her swallow hard. She could see on his bloodstained face that he had just enjoyed heaven on earth. Seeing an overwhelmingly strong man bring down hell upon his enemies excited her, nay _aroused_ her. In truth, she immediately headed for the restroom to take care of her hot, sopping wet nether regions.

"You're going to follow him, right?"

"That is my intention, yes." Ryuji was the embodiment of what Saeko defines as a "man". Nigh-limitless stamina, courage as a warrior, and nerves that would put steel to shame. But what stimulated her as a woman was bloodlust. Pure, undiluted bloodlust so thick and strong, she could feel it, smell it, and taste it in the air. To not fall in love with someone like that was inconceivable to her. There was only one answer. "Why do you ask?"

"What do you mean _why?!_ This is fucking ridiculous! He _killed a man_ without even blinking! What the fuck is this virus?! What the fuck is Ryuji Mikage?! I don't know about any of this!" That is not the childhood friend she knew. It just could not be. He was Takashi Komuro, the easygoing high school kid she admitted to be his equal, _not_ Ryuji Mikage the psycho killer playing soldier.

"True, yes, he has been lying to us. To you, to me; everyone. But even then, I still intend to forgive him. Say he met you without an alias, without hiding who he truly is. Would you have accepted him for who he was?"

Saya already knew the answer to that. Ryuji's nature was too bizarre and twisted that no standards within the bounds of normality could ever measure it up. Only someone as twisted as him or with an abnormally large heart could pull it off. And she was neither.

"People change. And we must accept them along with those changes. Either that or become strong enough to possess the constitution to do so. Let's go back. The others are waiting."

Saya stood up holding her basket of food, drinks and batteries. Saeko was not wrong. Her points made sense. She had a massive ego to begin with, and because of that she neither possessed the courage nor the mental capacity to accept Ryuji for who he is. Not even trying to hide her gloomy countenance, she took a bottle of green tea and stared at it long and hard. The boy she knew said this was his favorite. What does the real him like now? Pepsi? Orange juice? Mineral water? Perhaps vodka, or even scotch?

Several more minutes passed, and Saya made her choice. They were incompatible as people. She possesses the intellect, but without combat proficiency, she would be brushed aside. Her childhood friend—-or so she thought—-just happened to be no more than an acquaintance. Ryuji probably thinks so as well. And he would not hesitate in sacrificing her life if the need arises.

"Are you unwell?"

"No, I'm fine. Let's get going." She'd rather take her chances with her family


	14. Trustworthiness & Reliability

Whew! Finally some time to get this done! Dammit I hate my weekly schedule with a passion. Anyways, thank you for those people that have added this story to their list of favorites, it means a lot to me since this is my first fanfic I'm posting.

Cheers, readers and writers. Enjoy.

* * *

Ryuji could not suppress the wide, crazy grin once his destination came in sight as dusk was just beginning to settle in. "Alright, sleepyheads, wake up. We're here: the safe house."

Having stuffed themselves after surviving this apocalyptic ordeal, Ryuji was the only one that was awake. He continually poked Shizuka in the side and slapped the three in the back on their knees.

"Wait, what? This place….It's right lacrosse, I mean right across from….my place? Huh?" Shizuka was still half asleep, rubbing her eyes, and once she realized why the street they were in looked familiar, her eyes widened in utter confusion. The safe house Ryuji pointed out was a three story building right across the street from the maisonette apartment that she lives in with a friend.

She did remember seeing moving trucks coming once or twice every week, but paid it no attention assuming some rich foreigner bought it as a summer home.

"Yep, this is the safe house." Instructing everyone to get out of the car, he stood in front of the gate towering over six feet. He punched in a combination of numbers in a keypad next to it and pushed the tags around his neck against the sensor above the pad, causing the lock to open with a loud clack. "Oh, and before you enter, there are several rules I need to inform you of. One: any room that isn't mine, the living room, the bathrooms, and the roof is off limits. Two: if someone asks for help in front of this building, do not act. Come to me first. Whether they enter or not will be decided by me and only me. Three: You will do nothing to jeopardize or compromise this compound in any way. If you will abide by these three rules, then and only then may you enter."

Immediately, Saeko took the lead, but before she could take a step, Ryuji's words stopped her in her tracks. "And if you say you can and you don't, you face a penalty."

"What? Why?!" Kota fumed at Ryuji's borderline tyrannical demands.

"As of now, the only owner of this compound that is present is me. Therefore what you can and cannot do is for me to decide. I am responsible to make sure this place stays standing until my family returns. I would rather kill you all and call it a day than see this place fall to the ground." Ryuji squared his jaw and folded his arms in front of his chest, with the same look he had when they were attacked by those men on motorcycles. "Your freedom, your life in this safe house, is contingent on obeying my rules and following my instructions should I give them. Do I have to remind you that you are only here incidentally? After blowing up the school with gas and nitro and tripping the fire alarm, I was planning on using the entire campus as a decoy to leave with a car. Without being seen or followed, of course."

"That was _you?!_ " Saya gasped in disbelief.

"Yep. I had enough infected cramming the place up and I didn't want to waste the bullets. Plus I needed to test myself if I remembered certain recipes for explosive agents. so I rappelled down from the chemistry lab to the teacher's lounge." But then he ended up running into the four of them. Never had Ryuji wished to be in possession of Vector's cloaking device.

"Are you saying that you can't trust us?"

"You can never be too careful in an apocalypse," Ryuji nodded at Kota's words nonchalantly. "Also, I _do_ trust you. Your knowledge of military weaponry and tactics is probably more extensive than mine. Saeko is proficient in melee combat. Saya's smarter than the average high school kid, and Ms. Shizuka has a medical degree. You guys can think on your feet under pressure to some extent, so I'll give credit where it's due. Just to avoid confusion, I trust you, but I don't deem _any_ of you as reliable. The only people worthy of both are my family and me."

Everyone in front of him are a far cry in terms of their set of skills compared to the Wolfpack. While Kota was skilled, it was if and only if he has a functioning firearm in his possession; without it, he is nothing but fodder. On top of that, he lacked something crucial: stamina. Saeko has the opposite problem of being too light, making each strikes less lethal. On top of that, she has no experience with firearms, meaning she could not be relied on to cover anyone at a distance.

The other two were unquestionably useless in combat due to the absolute lack of experience being in combat or any other high pressure situations aside from the one they were in right now. Relying on them was out of the question.

"I understand and I see why," Saeko spoke with a faint yet defiant smile on her lips. "Then all there is to do for me is fight and win you over." She moved on without a glance back into the safe house.

"What'll it be? You have thirty seconds to decide and the gates will close indefinitely until my family returns." As he counted down, they all slowly walked through the gate. Ryuji opened the front door, revealing a simple interior of white walls and oak floorboards. Putting everything down in the living room, everyone threw themselves onto the floor and couches from exhaustion. Although there were conditions to be met, they were finally in a building that they did not have to worry about getting bitten or infected.

"If you wanna shower, they're on the second floor, second door on your right. Don't forget to not wander around the place." Ryuji disappeared through another door into his room, leaving the living room silent.

"Takagi, Dr. Marikawa, I suggest we appreciate his hospitality. A good hot bath should help us unwind our high strung minds." The two did not respond, but lurched up the stairs. "What will you do, Hirano?"

"I'll, uh…..go up to the roof and see if there's a route we could use while there's still some light out." Seeing Kota's gloomy complexion, Saeko only nodded and climbed the stairs after the two women.

Once they were gone, hot tears started streaming down from Kota's eyes.

What was he going to do? As long as he followed Ryuji, everything that he learned, everything that would have been useless in the future in Japan could be put to good use. He could finally establish a sense of identity, a sense of _competency_ and _power._ But he couldn't bring himself to cross that line separating people like him and people like Ryuji.

Kota still remembered that look, freshly burned into his mind. Those eyes belonged to a snake, a cold blooded killer that would take a life as casually as he would a fly buzzing around his face. What was going to happen to him should he cross that line? He hugged his knees, shivering in fear of the uncharted, unknown territory. He could feel his stomach churning just from imagining things. He may very well go insane if he were to face those eyes again. Plus, Ryuji said that he had family, comrades. Were they all like him?

Entering his room, Ryuji opened the refrigerator and pulled out a vial and a disposable syringe. Plunging the needle into the vial, he drew out the contents of it and stuck the needle into his neck, injecting everything into his blood stream—the vaccine for the T-Virus that Michaela and Christina developed after investing a large amount of time, money, and effort. He did not know if it will be effective on whatever was causing this outbreak, but Ryuji could not just stand by without taking any and every precaution he can. Tossing the syringe into the trash can, he pulled the phone out of his bag, calling Vladimir.

 _"_ _I assume you're calling because you made it?"_

"Yes, Vlad. I'm here. You? Are you at the airport?"

 _"_ _Already landed, and we have a chopper flying. Once we land, we will take a chopper to the closest helipad, and then drive or walk. I cannot say exactly when, but we will be there tomorrow."_

"Great. I'm getting sick of babysitting. How's the airport looking?"

 _"_ _SAT was placed there with some BSAA agents as countermeasures for terrorism. They've probably secured a certain area of the airport, but from what I saw via satellite, most of the runways were filled with infected. According to my pupil, securing the entire compound is still going to take some time."_

"How'd you even get into the air in the first place?"

 _"_ _Broke through a swarm of infected. My pupil was in the control tower so negotiating was not as hard as I anticipated. The BSAA should be looking up bogus credentials by now."_

Ryuji frowned. He knew Vladimir knew his way around technology and programming, but he knew the BSAA were not so stupid to take a bait such as that. "Vlad, be honest with me: how many women from the BSAA have you slept with?"

 _"_ _Four. One was a widow and the other was married."_

Hearing this, he let out a mixture of a groan and a snicker. "I fucking knew it." Members of the Wolfpack were fraternizing within the team, but before that, a majority of them were womanizers: Vladimir, Hector, Ryuji, and Michaela. All three of them gave them copiously detailed lectures on how to woo the target they fancied, how to spend the night with them, and how to give them the ecstatic night beyond their wildest dreams. So far, they have not failed him even once.

 _"_ _Oh, shut up. You slept with a waitress on your fifteenth birthday at the restaurant we went for the first time."_

"Guess you got me there. But it wasn't just her."

 _"_ _Come again?"_

"It wasn't a one on one. It was actually a ménage à trois. Aside from the waitress who was a college student from Barcelona, there was another Parisian flower. God, I miss them."

 _"_ _And how did that come about, again?"_

"The other girl found me during the make out session, and I guess that turned her on _very_ quickly." Specter let out a groan with a hint of laughter on the other side of the phone.

 _"_ _Karena would be crying if she heard that story from you."_

"She already knows, and two minutes after I told her, I heard her griping like a child in French and after she started crying, Michaela sung her a lullaby until she slept. Hurry up and get over here please?"

 _"_ _We will. Just hang on."_

Ending the call, Ryuji began taking his gear off, but left the bulletproof vest, side arm, and knives on. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a bottle of vodka and a shot glass, downing two in a matter of seconds. The distinctive smell burned his nose, and felt something hot pass his throat and settle in his stomach. Considering how far his plans had been derailed, the frustration was not going away any time soon without some alcohol consumption.

But right now he had to focus on the next step. He needs the people that are unnecessary as well as unwelcome to leave. One of them is Saya. Vladimir had already checked her background upon making contact.

Her father is the leader of an ultra right wing nationalist, whose operations and agendas were more sophisticated than the run of the mill gangster. Her wife was a former stock broker working in Wall Street, providing the connections and most of the capital, giving the organization the stepping stones to rise to power. They were essentially a small army with its own intelligence agency. If they were going to bring Saya back, there were only a select few that can accompany her to do so.

Once the rendezvous happens, the safe house will be secure. However, if the compound is assaulted during the delivery, getting back would take time. While it was not something Ryuji wanted to think about, he had to keep every possible situation in mind. He took three more shots of vodka, and the intoxication washed over him like the tide. His body was getting hot. This time he took out a bottle of water from the refrigerator and guzzled it greedily.

Upon hearing a knock on the door, he quietly approached, knife in hand. "Yeah?"

"It's me," Kota murmured. His eyes were puffy.

"What's up?"

"I've made up my mind. I…..I'm gonna stick with Takagi."

"Oh," Ryuji uttered without so much as a shrug, "well. Your choice, I ain't gonna stop you. Is that all you're here to say?"

"No. I wanna ask you something. You say that you can't rely on us, fine. I hate to be rude, but if anyone is untrustworthy, it's you. Your whole life in Tokonosu is a lie, so I think it's fair that you answer some questions truthfully."

"Touché. Alright, fine. I'll meet you half way."

"Who are you? The equipment, the knowledge, how you move, it's obvious that you've been doing this for a long time. And every weapon you have on you is illegal just by possession in this country. What part of your life is true and what isn't?"

Ryuji stopped for a moment before opening his mouth, his mind racing. He could not possibly give up his whole life story, but more lies could result in a more troublesome predicament. "Most of what is on my resume is a lie. I'm only partially Japanese, with a little bit of European blood in me."

"I can tell that much, you got blue eyes." Kota retorted, clearly unimpressed.

"Alright, fine. I gave you the short version about Umbrella and BOWs, right? The first time an outbreak happened was in the US of A called Raccoon City. I'm a survivor of that place. Group of ex-military people picked me up, and I fought to survive. My real parents have been dead for a while now, so I traveled the world taking down anyone and any place related to Umbrella making shady deals. All of them are oddballs and misfits with amazing skills that got booted out of their old place. Former JSDF, former Russian intelligence, U.S. army demolition man, and so on. To say that they have a few screws loose is a gross understatement, but they are my comrades in arms. They are my family."

Pulling off his bullet proof vest and tank top, he revealed the tattoos on his body. "This is the proof. All of us suffered many injuries in our years, some of them fatal, but none of us died. Everyone else says that because I was the seventh one to join, I was their good luck charm, blessing them; which is why I will always be proud to fight by their side and be a part of their family."

"I see. I knew that you weren't some ordinary guy when I saw you with the gas mask on, but….damn, you're a bona fide badass. Thanks for telling me. I'll keep it to myself."

"I'd appreciate that. Or else I'll kill ya." They both laughed as they spoke.

"Oh, can I have a pair of binoculars? I need to check possible routes to take Takagi back home. I'm assuming that's your plan?" Ryuji nodded, and tossed him his own. Catching it deftly with both hands, Kota began marching up the stairs, confidently compared to before. Once Ryuji was sure he was gone, he pulled out the bottle of vodka out from the refrigerator again with a bottle of Pepsi, and mixed them. Thanks to the water he drank before he was barely drunk, but he was not in the mood to be sober. As he was about to pour himself another, there was a knock at the door again.


	15. Vows

Here we go! As I've posted in past chapters, I own nothin, except this story. All franchises belong to the respective owners.

There's going to be some flashbacks and smut

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Saeko was standing in front of the door wearing a bathrobe with a pattern of irises. The contrast of color between her long bundle of wet black hair and her flushed pale skin made Ryuji lose his words for a few seconds at the beauty and sensuality radiating from her.

"If you want a drink, the big fridge is in the kitchen."

But Saeko could not say anything either, as she eyed Ryuji's finely toned, slender, and muscular body that was inked up in certain places.

"Hey. Hey!" Calling out to her repeatedly received no reaction. Finally, he waved his hand in front of her, which finally snapped her out of it.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry…."

"Did you want something from me? As I said before, If you want a drink, the big fridge is in the kitchen."

"You are aware that I am underage, correct?" She thinned her eyes, unsure if he was simply joking.

"So am I. Besides, we are in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, do I look like I give a fuck? And it doesn't _have_ to be alcohol." He finished the Pepsi mixed with vodka before continuing, "Ingest too much and it will almost certainly kill you, but once you become a teen and take drinks in moderation, it helps your nerves calm down."

Allowing Saeko entry, Ryuji turned around and plopped down on the leather easy chair placed in the corner of the room.

"I just remembered I never thanked you properly after escaping the campus. Be it due to the unforeseen course of events or not, you saved our lives, so thank you very much for that."

"You're welcome."

"And one more thing. This morning, you….um, well….you…." Despite being a person of conviction with a dignified attitude, she still was a maiden. Embarrassed by even trying to verbalize the physical intimate actions caused the energy behind her words to wane quickly.

Ryuji was about to smack his forehead (possibly even hers) for bringing this up at this time, place and occasion but made a fist and placed it firmly on his lap. "I told you before. I like girls who are in control of themselves and take charge, unafraid of the power that they wield. You kicking ass and smashing heads in was quite alluring." He took several steps forward, making Saeko back up until her back hit the wall. "The first time I killed a man, I was around five, six years old. Up close, with a gun. I didn't even blink, and I ate a cheese burger after that. I've torn out throats with my teeth, stabbed people to death, poisoned them, and more. If I include infected, my body count is well over a thousand. Yet I feel nothing, being born a killer."

The distance between them were no more than a foot apart. Saeko felt her reply die in her throat, replacing it with a small, strangled squeak. She felt dizzy as the ever-present smell of blood and pheromones (at least what she thinks to be so) made her heart pound against her chest and knees wobble.

"Why are you so fussy about me? Or are you just here because the stench of blood turns you on so much?"

Ryuji was not wrong. Saeko felt more attached to him the more she spent her time with him, but her decision was not made by a spur of the moment. "I am here because I chose to. Who you are is irrelevant to me."

"Even if I told you I may end up using you as bait which will almost certainly kill you?" Ryuji had always been apathetic towards anyone that was not a part of the Wolfpack. If he had to choose, he would without question prioritize the Wolfpack's life, and he was not about to let anyone question his decision. Although that "accident" had happened, Ryuji was still cautious about increasing the intimacy of their relationship. Compassion in a situation under high pressure dulls the skill of quick decision making. Being late by even a nanosecond could be costly, resulting in almost immediate death.

"If it comes to that, then so be it. My life is in your hands." Saeko's words managed to stun Ryuji into silence as he mulled over what to do. Handing over one's own life to someone else without hesitation is an action beyond the limits of sanity. Ryuji's life had always been in the Wolfpack's hands as theirs had been in his, and no one else. Having accompanied occasions for extracting information through torturing or otherwise, he had acquired the skill of telling if someone was lying, and she was not.

"Alright," Ryuji closed the gap between them, pressing his forehead against her's. He stared into her eyes for what she felt was an eternity without so much as a blink. She swallowed hard as her mouth went dry. The musk of his pheromones was intoxicating her. Ryuji saw that on her face and immediately pressed his lips against the nape of her neck. The lavender scented shampoo filled his nostrils as he inhaled deeply, and he sank his teeth into her smooth pale skin. Saeko shuddered at the sudden feeling of teeth, but did not resist. Gradually he increased the strength of his bite until her porcelain skin broke, forming beads of blood which his tongue soon lapped up greedily.

"What….was that?"

"I'll leave that to your imagination." Ryuji grinned mischievously as he caught Saeko around the waist before she fell as her legs finally gave out. She naturally wrapped her arms around his neck to catch herself. "What's the matter? You look very…. _thirsty_. Don't tell me that having pain inflicted turns you on as well."

Saeko said nothing. She could not say anything. It was as if the bite had injected a venom, a sweet, deathly intoxicating venom into her, spreading fast. She chewed on her lower lip looking impatient whilst Ryuji released her to undo the bathrobe at a tantalizingly slow pace, all the while just barely stroking her body with his fingertips. "I am going to take my time with you, so brace yourself." Finally undoing the knot hiding her body, Ryuji shoved her against the wall hard and began kissing her, pinning her arms above her head with one hand. The other hand danced along her lower abdomen. Her abdominal muscles were tight and toned, resulting from the years of dedicated training in the martial arts, which Ryuji approved of. His teasing and caressing were fluttery and feather-like, egging her, daring her to get more aggressive.

Saeko felt her lower abdomen contracting, tying itself into burning knots. She had been kissed by him before and she saw fireworks go off in her mind', but this was different. This was better. _Infinitely._ Forget toes curling, his kiss was making the entire _fabric of her being_ curl. His hot, long tongue slithered into her mouth, its tip picking at her teeth and gums, intertwining itself with hers. She swore she felt her brain getting scrambled into jelly and then melting away into a white-hot world of oblivion. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. Breaking free from Ryuji's grasp, she ran her hand through his hair and pulled his head towards her, deepening the kiss even further. The other hand guided his teasing hand lower. A muffled scream sounded in her throat as his fingers stroked her clitoris through the fabric. She arched her back, breaking the kiss and gasping for air.

But that was of no concern to Ryuji. The movements of his fingers intensified, and Saeko slapped a hand over her mouth and bit down on her tongue, lest her ecstatic moans should be heard by the others. Losing the strength in her legs, her body convulsed uncontrollably after each climax, each one taking her higher than the last before crumpling to the floor with a dazed look on her face, her crotch a sopping, wet mess.

Saeko's mind was drifting in and out of reality. It's not like she had never masturbated before in her life, but while it may have satisfied her body, it never satisfied her mind. This addictive sense of joy and happiness from climaxing at the hands of the man of her dreams had awoken the beast with a ravenous appetite for the carnal pleasure which it had just tasted. However, that was only but an aperitif. It wanted more. Before she knew what she was doing, she was undoing Ryuji's belt and tugging at his pants and pulling them loose in a heap on the floor, pronouncing the large bulge in his crotch.

There was nothing more he wanted than to just push her down on the floor and fuck her like an animal, a hound taking its bitch. He wanted that, so badly. But not yet. Ryuji needed her to be dependent on him, _addicted_ to him, even. As he learned from the team's best torturer, truly breaking or warping someone's mind requires time, patience, and analyzation of the target. He needed to tease her and tease her, observe through testing her weak points, exploit them, building the bubble of anticipation, and then smash that with full force, giving her what she wanted and overload her senses with it again and again, possibly even after she passes out. He did not know if Saeko knew, but he was completely aware of one fact: this feeling he was directing towards her was sheer, unadulterated, dark, twisted lust. Under no condition was this love.

Ryuji got down on his knees leveling his line of sight with Saeko who was still trying to catch her breath, but he soon smothered her with another kiss. The moment he did so, Saeko began to passionately suck on his tongue. In retaliation he began kneading her smooth, toned, supple thighs and breasts with as much fervor, his thumbs just barely grazing the fabric of her panties. Her body stiffened again with a muffled scream as he suddenly pressed his thumb against her clitoris.

"Oh….my…..god." Saeko was breathless, her eyes hazy. Her panties were now drenched, no longer functioning as an article of clothing and left a puddle on the floor.

"You looked _so_ hot when you came. I want to see you more. Hear you more." Going down on all fours, Ryuji hooked his teeth onto her panties and pulled down as he gently lifted her legs onto his shoulders. Once he pulled the thin, lacy piece of fabric loose, he slipped his tongue and fingers inside her, stirring and churning her insides. "Wai—no, no, no, not there! Not there, please! Please, I OH M—AAAAAH!" Sweet, sweet release shot through Saeko like lightning, setting off a string of explosions in her head, shortening her breath as if she were hyperventilating.

"Gotcha girl," Ryuji chuckled as he gently tugged the robe off, rendering her completely naked. Picking her up, he laid her out on his bed. Her lustrous raven hair fanned out onto the sheets, and the contrast of it and her flushed body made her all the more alluring. "By the way, we are _far_ from finished." He proceeded to kiss her again, trailing small, light pecks down her body, all the while relishing the sight of her squirming at the mercy of his foreplay.

"No…no, please….I….want you."

"You already _have_ me. I'm right here." Saeko knew he knew what she wanted. She knew he was doing this just for the sake of teasing her. He wanted her to say it out loud.

She knit her eyebrows together in anger and flung her upper body up, catching Ryuji's face between her hands, laying a passionate kiss on his lips. "I need you to take me right now. Make me yours. Break me."

"With pleasure, princess." Pulling a condom out from underneath the mattress, he fitted it on easily and thrusted hard into her.

Everything went blank. Saeko had heard her fair share of "locker room banter" about boys, sex and their experiences. She had heard one of the kendo club members say that pain can become pleasure if you're aroused enough. Whether that knowledge was from experience or otherwise is anybody's guess, but she was right. The moment of her defloration had turned into an exploding keg of pleasure. Saeko was about let out a loud moan but was immediately smothered by a kiss. Ryuji peeled his lips off of her's and asked, "So? What do you think?"

"You're filling me up so much….I can feel you all the way up to my navel…." She could feel the throbbing of his cock in her, and she stroked that area with a tender but dreamy smile.

"Well, you're about to feel a lot more than just that." Ryuji took it slowly at first, but gradually picked up the pace, filling the room with muffled moans, grunts, and the rhythmical slapping sound of flesh slapping against flesh. She hugged him close and wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him wherever she could reach, nails raking red streaks along his back, making her climax consecutively. Every one was like getting thrown up high into the heavens, getting struck by lightning and then falling into the abyss of the ocean where neither sound nor light can reach, only to be tossed up again. "Let's get a little more creative, shall we? Lie flat on your stomach. "

Saeko could manage nothing more than a weak nod. She did not care. This primal sense of submissiveness felt frighteningly good. As long as this ecstasy lasts, as long as he will give this to her, nothing else mattered. Feeling a pair of hands groping her firm, well rounded ass, she shuddered in a bizarre mixture of fear and gleeful anticipation. Saeko felt Ryuji enter her again, his hot breath, bites and kisses trailing down her neck. She felt his throbbing cock stretch out the folds of her pussy, this new position allowing him to reach new places in new angles. She screamed and squealed into the pillow as he continued to mercilessly pound away deep inside her, ravaging her G-spot. The throbbing became more pronounced until she felt an explosion inside her. Although it was through the membrane of a condom, she could feel the heat of the viscous stuff radiating inside her, making her feel like she was melting into a puddle, becoming one with Ryuji in every sense of the word.

But all of that vanished like candle light in the rain as Saeko felt herself getting flipped over on her back and a pair of hands grabbing her ass to pick her up and set her down on a table. His growl right next to her ear made her hair stand on end. "Oh, by the way…..we are far from finished."

Shortly after contacting Ryuji, the Wolfpack had just reached the airspace of the seaports.

"Hector, what's our ETA from our position to the safe house?" Karena asked.

"Assuming we don't run into any problems, I'd say by sundown, give or take an hour or two."

The population of Tokonosu city was large, roughly over a million people. This posed the problem of their landing location becoming highly restricted. Helicopters flying through the air is nothing special, but if they land it in too high a building, it would take forever to get down to ground level, not to mention the ammunition and stamina they would waste. If it were too low, the building is likely to not be able to support the weight of the helicopter, resulting in their total incapacitation or even death. If they were to land on the ground, the beating rotors would summon a horde of the infected to them.

Their best bet was to find a place that was close as possible to the safe house in order to shorten their time to get there by foot or by ground transportation, but their time to think was slowly disappearing along with what is left of the aviation fuel.

"Vlad, is there a place that's not to high or low and is sturdy enough to land?"

"Yes, head northwest," Specter answered operating a laptop with each hand with a cigarette in his mouth. "There's a shopping mall about fifty klicks away. The building is big, but it's only about four, maybe five stories high at the most. We can take a car from there to save more time."

Christine was typing away on her laptop as well checking the news online. "I don't know who set up this outbreak, but there's no doubt that this is man-made. I analyzed the sample collected in Guam, but it's basically a depleted version of the T-Virus with several of it's properties tweaked," she announced concisely.

"Tweaked how, exactly?" Vector scowled, unsure as to what exactly that meant.

"There isn't much that can be said with what we acquired only recently, but the symptoms are basically the same as the T-Virus." She tapped the keyboard again, bringing out an image of an infected woman with two columns of writing. "First, the speed it takes for this virus to reach the brain is a lot faster. I can only make an estimate after watching a live feed from a satellite but it's roughly a minute at the shortest and under ten minutes before turning."

"Higher speed of contamination, that's going to be a pain," Michaela groaned looking up from the book she was reading.

"However," Four Eyes continued as she scrolled down, "the silver lining —if you could call it that—is this strain only affects humans. The infected don't seem to give a shit about animals. Their movements are slow, and they seem to rely on sound rather than sight when hunting."

"I see, that gives us more options and chances to circumvent or divert them when necessary. Any chances of them mutating or evolving?"

"I don't know," Four Eyes shook her head with a frustrated countenance staring hard at the screen, "the time for those infected by the T-Virus to evolve differs from person to person, so the best answer I can give you is that we should consider it a possibility. I have been making data comparisons with BOWs that we've encountered in the past, but as I said before, we have an inadequate amount of data for this new strain. So for now, Bertha and my hands are tied at the moment. But the vaccines that we have should work since the basic components aren't any different. I did send what information we have to all branches of the BSAA anonymously at Vladimir's request."

Lupo glanced towards Vladimir piloting the helicopter. He turned, noticing the gaze from behind. "What? Yes, I made a judgement call, but we were pressed for time. The BSAA are far better equipped in terms of hardware and staffing both in the field and otherwise."

"I am not rebuking you Vladimir, merely surprised. I had the distinct impression that you hated most government agencies."

"I got over it. You sure you're not mad?"

"No. Every drop in the bucket counts now, we will expend every option we can. Frankly, this is a far cry from the hell we experienced in Raccoon City. I have made two vows in my life. To keep all my team members alive and to protect and fight beside my son until…..well, as long as I can."

"You're not the only one." Michaela chimed in placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing it lightly. "He saved everyone of us in more ways than one. When we decided to leave Umbrella's employ, he made sure we stuck together. We are all alive as a team because of him. Don't forget, you're not the only one that's prepared to fight with him and for him, to the death."

The last mission they undertook while they were under Umbrella's employ became the very reason to turn their fangs against them.

The chief of police of the Raccoon City Police Department received payment in exchange for turning a blind eye to Umbrella's activities within the city. However, at the same time, he was collecting information on those said activities behind their back, and the Wolfpack was ordered to eliminate that information along with any police officers that were still alive complete with bait: a way out of the city.

Lupo made no effort to hide her discontent with command's policies and methods, but being employed for a handsome profit, she had no choice but to obey if she wanted to receive every last cent of it. Fighting BOWs was nothing new, which made things easier, but an unexpected event took her by surprise: an explosion at an intersection a mere two blocks away from the station. The team moved in to investigate, only to find remains of several police cruisers and an oil tanker currently in flames. A wounded man in tactical gear with the letters RCPD printed across the bulletproof vest. Upon seeing the Wolfpack, he limped away as fast as he could, knowing he would not stand a chance. To make matters worse, he was on the other side of the wreckage that was effectively blocking their path to him.

 _"_ _Follow that cop! Kill him!"_ A sudden mission when freedom was staring them in their faces. Everyone was livid for the postponement of their escape.

"This is bullshit from Command has got to fucking _stop_ , yo! Remind me to charge them an obscene fortune for after-hour services!" Beltway shouted over the roar of his shotgun blasting away several BOWs at a time pelting them with buckshot.

"Dammit, dammit, dammit, FUCK! Fucking white-collar pieces of shit!" Out of the seven, however, Viper was the absolutely livid one by far. He took the BOWs head on with a knife and a machete, stabbing their heads into a pulp and hacking their limbs off even after they had stopped moving. The sight was far more grisly than any horror movie could depict.

"My my, he's got a temper," Bertha sighed wiping off the blood caked on her own machete with a torn off piece of shirt that was still miraculously clean, "but I can't blame him."

"Viper, _arrêt._ "

After a short pause, Viper muttered " _D'accord,_ " sheathed his blades, and collected the G36C he tossed aside and slung it over his shoulder.

"I understand that you don't like it, I don't blame you for it. Believe me, I don't like it either. But if we are going to leave this place in one piece, we must bite the proverbial bullet."

"Are you kidding me? They are obviously going to betray us!"

"We don't know that for certain. But if it turns out that way, we will find our own way out."

Command made contact with the Wolfpack again, making it quite clear that they will be abandoned, which was their last straw. It was going to be a long night, but they were not going to back down like this, not without wreaking havoc on their treacherous clients. They ceased their chase after the police officer, and decided to take down BOWs that were getting deployed into the city along with American troops. Having their guinea pigs destroyed with insufficient data would be most inconvenient for them. Maybe then Command will reconsider.

Strictly speaking, their plan of action was nothing short of suicide but the only thing going through their head was one thing: survival. Lupo and Viper covered each other's backs, thinning out the herd of infected with their guns, blades, fists, and anything else they could lay their hands on; Vector ambushed BOWs of larger sizes through the use of his cloaking mechanism; Beltway set laser mines and charges of C4 in the perimeter, buying the others time to regroup, catch their breath, or have Bertha patch them up; Spectre posted up on high ground, watching everybody's backs, picking off stragglers and reporting further incoming enemies, keeping them on guard; Four Eyes made use of her syringe gun and chemicals, controlling the BOWs and sending them against other BOWs or soldiers. All of them fought for dear life. Everyone was injured to some degree, but by some miracle or another remained standing and breathing. Soon after, Umbrella promised to send a helicopter to escape. They could not have any more of their precious BOWs destroyed any further, but in exchange for completing a mission on their behalf. Again.

"It's official now, I think," Viper grumbled as he tossed the dull, chipped knife away, swapping it for a knife on a soldier's corpse. "They're going to fuck us over the first chance they get."

"That may be so, but they are no fools. Considering how much we have done for them in the past, we still are assets to them, and we are on the field right now. Getting rid of us would hurt them in the long run."

"Lupo is right. Whoever gets cut or dies is because they are weak. They don't need anyone unable to finish the mission. This is a test to assess our usefulness in the future."

"I got a lot of intel for them before, I can still do it now."

But the other three who were not content with being Umbrella's lapdogs any longer, objected. "Vector, have you finally lost your mind? It's an obvious lie." Spectre sighed through his mask.

"Lupo, I think all the killing's made you lose your shit too. They told us to head to the research compound, a free ticket to an ocean of shit filled with BOWs, and you're basically asking us to wade into it with our eyes and mouths open. No thanks."

"Bertha, I think it's about time now as well. I have enough information on the T-Virus, and there doesn't seem to be anything more that is noteworthy. The Bertha I know is not so foolish to throw away her life over money."

Four intent on continuing the mission, and three intent on walking out. The situation was not yet volatile but the atmosphere was getting dangerously tense. While they had taken care of all the BOWs and infected in the area, they had no time to waste debating over this.

Viper saw three scenarios. One, the best, was that everyone leave Umbrella alive. The second, while extremely unlikely still possible was a fight breaking out between them, with everyone dying. Third was parting ways. While this meant reducing combat abilities as a unit will diminish by at least half, a far better alternative than the previous one. His mind raced furiously as he looked at the six men and women, coming up with words to persuade them all. Viper had a vow he made to himself as well.

And he was going to make them take the optimal solution. All of them.


	16. Race Against Time

Author's Note: Hoooo...That was a long semester. Dear readers and writers alike, I am terribly sorry for the unannounced hiatus. And thank you to those people who decided to follow/favorite this story despite the hiatus. Spring term of college in your junior year is far less kinder than I expected. Anyways, I'll be able to do more translating/writing during the summer, so expect more!

Enjoy!

Also, I'll be using the Wolfpack's real names, so I'll put 'em down here to avoid confusion

Karena LesProux: Lupo

Vladimir Bodrovski: Spectre

Hector Hivers: Beltway

Michaela Schneider: Bertha

N/A: Vector

PS: Now that season 2 is coming to a close, I'm thinking of doing a fanfic of Into The Badlands with an OC...what do you all think?

* * *

Viper opened his mouth once he had his thoughts organized. "Hey, you guys remember what the Alpha Team leader said about the UBCS? They're just mercenaries; they can be bought. We can't assume their loyalty to the company. Those were the exact words. What about us?"

That silenced everyone immediately, deescalating the situation in an instant. In truth, while they did have more benefits than the UBCS, they too, were mercenaries, employed for their skills.

Lupo was a former member of the special forces in France hired in exchange for a sum large enough for her children's education; Four Eyes was picked up for her extensive knowledge and observational skills as a medical researcher; Beltway and Spectre were chased out of their former teams and were picked up by them for their skills; Vector trained under HUNK since his youth, making it only a matter of time before he started working with his teacher for Umbrella; Bertha was hired for her expertise in torture and extracting vital information from people; Viper was a former child soldier who had no family or anyone he could go to, effectively tethered to Umbrella to survive. He had no choice.

They all have their reasons that compelled them to begin making a living in the underworld of criminals, but because of that they were the perfect scapegoats for Umbrella who could use their records as an excuse. And right now was the opportune moment for them to brand the Wolfpack as a cell of terrorists or whatever they could come up with.

"If we go to that compound now, we will die a mighty fucking painful death that would make the deaths in _Friday the 13th_ and the _Hellraiser_ movies feel like a session of chiropractic therapy." He switched off his earpiece as he continued, "They had no intention of letting us walk away alive, and that's not going to change any time soon. Money is important, but don't forget that it's nothing compared to our lives."

The mercenary's most prized possession: it is life itself. If they die, everything comes to an end. They can no longer look for a new job, they can never eat or drink, and can never be paid or spend the money they had earned as they pleased. Death was the antithesis of profit. "And that cop, —-John F. Kennedy or whatever his name was—we can let him go, can't we? It's been a while already since this shit show started, so he probably has a lot of dirt on Umbrella. Hopefully. We leave his ass in the wind, and Umbrella goes bye-bye into the shit storm of litigation. And if that's not enough, we personally take 'em down."

Lupe chewed on her lower lip and knit her brows together in a frown, thinking for what seemed to be an eternity before she switched her earpiece off and opened her mouth. "I suppose. Very well, we will go with your plan. And I know that you know how much I despise having people stepping on my neck. I believe we are obligated for some payback, with interest."

Upon hearing this, Beltway and Spectre began snickering under their respective gas masks.

"Ah, there is the strong woman that we know. But I believe your expression is….a bit of an understatement."

"Damn right it is. Ladies and gentlemen, let's go skin the fat cats."

Everyone else silently nodded as they huddled closer. Viper subtly exhaled a sigh of relief. "So? What do we do now?"

"For now we make chase. As a public servant he won't have the trouble we would have in public. We will use him as our means to gut Umbrella. Nothing different, to be honest."

Viper's shoulders relaxed, as he laughed softly to himself. No wonder he felt so comfortable with these six. He couldn't stifle the laughter any longer, and the others joined in on it for a while, relaxing their high-strung nerves a bit.

"Alright, now we begin our tour of hell on earth. Stack up." Despite the gravity of the situation and Lupo ordered her team to prepare themselves but her voice was strangely uplifted with joy.

Both Leon and the Wolfpack were able to escape the city with the research facility in ruins and BOWs running rampant.

They continued to ignore Umbrella's plans and continued the chase. Luckily, they knew nothing of the Wolfpack's intentions, feeding them detailed information of his current location and activity.

 _"_ _We have just intercepted a distress signal from Leon S. Kennedy. He is moving with two other survivors. One is a civilian Claire Redfield, and the other is Dr. Birkin's daughter Sherry."_ Command's words shocked everyone. To think that they would be facing the daughter of the man they had basically killed seemed like a sick twist of fate. _"These three are confirmed to be in Lonsdale Yard. The military is already en route to extract them. Sherry Berkin is infected with the G-Virus and has the antigen injected into her. The vaccine is now gone with the lab, but we still have her. Take Kennedy and Redfield out and bring her back to Umbrella. Alive."_

Feigning compliance, they hurried towards Lonsdale Yard. It was a large patch of land surrounded by chainlink and metal fences now bent out of shape with freight containers stacked on top of each other creating a maze.

"Report shot count." Everyone voiced their remaining rounds of ammunition. Their primary firearms had just over two magazines, while their sidearms had barely ten rounds apiece. Knives, machetes and other melee weapons have either been damaged heavily for any further use or were lost fighting the large BOWs.

They were used to not having backup whilst in combat zones, but this was by far the worst one to be in in their entire lives. All of them were wounded, and none of them were simple as scrapes or bruises, barely hanging on after Bertha and Four Eyes patched them up with what resources they had. Without being able to rest for even a moment, the Wolfpack was steadily exhausting both their minds and bodies.

"Viper, can you move?"

"Yep. I'm really sleepy, but the pain's keeping me awake." Despite the cheerful demeanor, anyone could see Viper was already on his last legs. He had a hole in his side after a stray rifle round ricocheted through it, a fractured clavicle, several broken ribs and a minor concussion. In a battlefield, losing function of even a single limb was costly. Viper had fought and ran like a madman up to now gritting his teeth through the pain, but his legs were buckling and giving out under him. His condition was worsening to the point where he could not even remain upright without leaning against one of the containers. The fever swarming him resulting from the broken bones was robbing his consciousness but at the same time the loss of blood made him feel like he was freezing too.

Viper's stamina was no less than a seasoned soldier, but he still was a child with a body still unripe. In fact, it was a miracle in and of itself that he was even able to continue fighting. As he was about to collapse on the floor, Vector caught him. "Don't die on us, lucky boy. You'll get us all killed." He unscrewed the cap of his canteen and slowly poured whatever water was left into his mouth.

"Hang on, we're almost there. Once we get out of this place—"

"It's my body, I know I'm fucked sideways up shit-creek. That attack from the Licker is more than enough to do me in. Look, I'm proud that I was your good luck charm even if I die. But luck is something that runs out eventually, so I won't blame you for leaving me."

Lupo took his hand in hers, holding it tightly. "Then use that luck on yourself and hang on. For us. Please." Her eyes were that of a mother caring for her child worried sick, and Viper felt his heart breaking. In all honesty, he wanted to tell her he was in pain. He wanted to cry and beg her for help, but he could not. He would not.

"There might be a way." Lupo spun her head towards Bertha. "Sherry Birkin has both the G-Virus and its antigen in her blood. We get that to him. The virus revitalizes the cells of its host and regenerates, healing every wound, fatal or otherwise. Dr. Birkin and Sherry have type O Blood, and Viper has type AB. To my knowledge, there won't be incompatibility reactions."

"That's too risky," Four Eyes objected, shaking her head. "A small amount may not be too much of a problem, but this is the G-Virus we're talking about. Regardless of the antigen's existence and its advantages, that's _not_ a factor we can just gloss over. If worse comes to worse, we may have to be the ones to put Viper down like Birkin."

The risk for both choices was heavier than the world itself. Lupo scrunched her face up with her eyes tightly shut.

"Alright, fine. I'll use whatever luck I have left for myself. My life, my choice. I get all the votes, 'kay?"

"Are you sure about this? There's no going back, and already your chance of survival is dangerously low." Hearing Vector's words made him snicker, but a dull pain shot up his left side as he laughed.

"I already made my choice. If I'm dying either way, I'll take my chances with a path that lets me stick around with you guys longer, even if it's just for another second." Although physically weakened, the conviction in his eyes never wavered.

Vector nodded. "Lupo, Bertha and I will cover him."

"Thank you. Stay alive. All of you. That's an order." Lupo stood up with the others, leaving Bertha and Vector with Viper to track down Leon. Once the four disappeared out of sight, Bertha unslung her backpack and pulled out a small case with vials and syringes.

"Bertha….what's that?"

"Morphine. It's to kill the pain a bit and let your nerve cells rest instead of telling you that you're injured badly. You're small, so the dose is small, thankfully. Vector, lay him down flat on his back. Slowly." Vector caught Viper before he could hit the ground and very gently laid him out on the asphalt.

"Oh, gimme a break. Pain is proof of life. I'm not about to make you bend your rules of no pain-killers at a time like this." He tried to wave the syringe away, but Bertha caught that arm.

"Stop acting tough. Remember the time you got shot and I tried to take the bullet out without painkillers? When Lupo found out I thought she was going to kill me. In all honesty, I was scared shitless. I value your life, but I also value my life as well." Turning his head, she stuck the needle into the vein in his neck and injected the morphine. In a matter of minutes, Viper felt his body go loose, spreading from head to toe. The pain coursing through his body was disappearing as well.

"Oh and I never asked before, but what's your real name, Viper?"

"Don't have one. Viper _is_ my name, like Vector."

"Really? Then I guess we'll have Vector come up with one for you then."

"You want a John Doe like me to give Baby Doe a name?"

"Oh, come on. What do you have to lose? I'm only asking because you both have Asian features. There's only one room for a John Doe and that's for Vector."

"That's racist, _Frau Doktor,_ " Viper quipped with a snicker.

"Shut up, you," she shot back laughing, giving him a casual flick to the forehead.

"How about….Ryuji. Ryuji Mikage."

"Does that name have some meaning or significance?"

"Yes. In Japanese, Mikage could mean the soul. Ryuji is rooted in the Chinese zodiac signs. Ryu is dragon in Japanese, and counting back to your birthday, you're born on the year of the snake, which is after the year of the dragon. Hence Ryuji."

"Oh, that sounds awesome. Alright, once we get the hell outta here, that's gonna be my name on the fake passport."

"No objections." Bertha dabbed at the sweat on Viper's forehead with a towel and fanned his face with her glove, trying to keep his temperature low. Vector did his best to keep him hydrated, but the sweat was pouring off like rain and his breathing was getting shallower, uneven.

The T-Virus was coursing through Viper, claiming him. Time was running out.

The four kept after Leon doggedly, more determined than they have ever been in their lives and finally cornered him in an area where several freight trains had stopped.

Spectre had a lock on his location through the various vision modes in his goggles, rifle at the ready with the safety off.

"Claire, now!"

There was a loud, deep pop followed by a whooshing sound. The sound of a weapon that any former military member has heard being discharged before.

"Grenade! Cover!" Beltway, who excelled in demolition and the use of explosives, noticed this the quickest, and all four jumped behind cover before impact. "Oh, that _fucking bitch!_ She's got a motherfucking grenade launcher! Blowing shit up is _my job, goddamit!_ "

Hearing the explosion, hordes of infected began to converge toward them, as well as the SPEC-OPs. Beltway began tossing grenades that he took off soldiers' corpses into the crowd, aiming in areas that were particularly infested. "Everyone stick together and get away from the blast radius!"

With a tomahawk in the left and an M4 rifle with a drum magazine in her right, Lupo cut open a path. They were running out of stamina, bullets and time. They had to act far more efficiently than they had.

"Lupo, leave the infected and the SPEC-OPS to me! Spectre, be the Oswald to his Kennedy and blow his fucking head off!"

"Of course, but you need to make sure to keep him out of the blast radius of your explosives." Spectre joked, firing off the rounds left in his weapon at the SPEC-OPS, "Our prime objective is Sherry Birkin's blood."

"You know what I mean! Move your ass, dipshit!

"Lupo, I'll cover him, so—-"

"Four Eyes, stay back! You'll need the advantage of numbers, I'll be fine! I'll meet up with y'all once I get rid of them, so give me that thing!" Realizing what he meant, Four Eyes rummaged through her pack and tossed a pouch towards him.

In the pouch were six grenade rounds "This better work," Beltway muttered to himself, "it's a product of our first cooperative operation. Don't fail me now." Pressing one of the rounds against his forehead as if he were praying, he fired off the first round once he made sure the wind was blowing against his back. Flying in a large arc, it fell at the feet of SPEC-OPS soldiers trying to cut the others off. The round began to spout a cloud of red mist. Thinking it to be a smoke grenade, they pressed on. There were infected, but not as many. Cornering them would not be a problem.

However they failed to realize that it was more than just smokescreen. The infected turned their heads towards the soldiers, and began targeting them above all others. Seeing its effects take place, Beltway pumped his fist in joy. "How ya like them pheromone fumes, bitches!?" It was working. He can win. Letting the pheromone gas spread a little more, he began setting up laser mines and antipersonnel mines quickly while the soldiers were distracted and moved to a better vantage point, blowing them up with regular grenades.

Beltway was never a religious man, and had never prayed in his life. But right now, he was praying to any god, every being known to be in a position of a higher power. All he needed was the time and strength to hold out until Viper could recover. Everything else could wait. "Alright, ya sons of bitches?! Who the fuck's next?!" With a maniacal laugh and provoking words, he fired off more pheromone-grenades.


	17. Ride Together, Die Together

Here we go. Now that I've gotten some more chapters written and stocked up, I can steadily post once, maybe even twice a week.

I got a question on my reviews about who the protagonist is, so just to avoid confusion: He is the little kid with the codename VIPER while under Umbrella's employ, and is given that name by Vector. His appearance is basically the same as Takashi from canon and that is his fake name on the fake Japanese passport.

There will be some more flashback-y parts that will come up, and in that the Wolfpack will be referred to by their codename, but only in the flashback to avoid confusion for both readers and me.

Happy writing, please enjoy, and drop some comments!

* * *

With Beltway bringing up the rear, the four converged and fought their way through the perimeter of the SPEC-OPS whose numbers were increasing by the minute. Leon continued to fight back as he evaded, them, but was finally cornered, all ammunition now spent.

"You have no idea how much of our time you have wasted." As soon as those words left Lupo's lips, a swift roundhouse kick landed on his temple, sending him to the ground. "Where is that girl, Sherry Birkin?" She growled, pulling his head up by his hair.

"Claire! Take Sherry! Get out of here!" Beyond Leon's gaze was Claire Redfield who forced them to split up in the worst possible time. The minute Four Eyes found her, she glared down at Leon, firing her assault rifle at him twice. The first full metal jacket round pierced the side of his bullet-proof vest and the following round pierced the flesh. Leon groaned in pain, but continued to signal Claire to clear out.

"Leave all your weapons there and bring the Birkin girl or I will take my time with this cop. I assure you he will suffer hell before he dies." Four Eyes pulled out one of her syringes and held it poised above his neck, the needle a mere inch away from his jugular.

"Alright! Alright, we're coming down. Just…keep that thing away from him." Claire conceded, and began unholstering her weapons, tossing them off to the side before descending the ladder with Sherry towards Leon.

"Why are you doing this? For Umbrella? _Money?_ " Before Lupo could strike again, Spectre's submachine gun's stock slammed into his injured side, silencing him as he grimaced in pain.

 _"_ _Delta Team, give me a situation report."_

"We have the cop and the girl." Lupo answered monotonously to the never-changing high and mighty voice through the miraculously still intact and functional earpiece.

 _"_ _Eliminate them and bring us the girl."_

"We can do that. But first, I am afraid there is a need to renegotiate our deal."

 _"_ _What are you talking about?"_

"You deployed your BOWs and left us for dead while being fully aware of our activities in Raccoon City under _your orders_. We want triple the original amount and an vac chopper sent to our location immediately. If you still want her, that is."

 _"_ _You must be out of your mind!"_ Command scoffed. _"We're not negotiating with you. Finish your mission!"_

"Finish it yourself." Lupo snapped. "Consider our contract with you terminated."

 _"_ _Then you can die along with Raccoon City!"_

"We'll take our chances. Pray that we die, if you must. But remember this: when we leave the city, no amount of soldiers, BOWs, not even god will save you." The line was disconnected, and the radio went silent.

"Why won't you kill us?" Leon gasped through the pain as Claire helped him up. He was utterly confused. They had gone through so much trouble—too much, in his honest opinion—to hunt him down and kill him. Yet when they are just a trigger pull away, they had trained their sights on someone else.

"You weren't the leverage we thought you would be, simple as that. Umbrella's turned on us already. They didn't take the offer, so obviously there is no profit from your demise."

"And now that they have turned on us, there's no sense in doing something that would benefit them, no? Consider this our first step to stabbing them in the back. And for the record: if they had taken the deal, you would be choking on your own blood right now. Spread whatever intel you have to whomever you wish. Once we get out of this city, we will gut Umbrella from the inside out." Spectre laughed softly under his gas mask, imagining what the success would be like.

"What about Sherry?"

"Keep her," Four Eyes spat, "but we still have one last thing to do with her." She grabbed Sherry by her arm and jammed the needle of her syringe-gun into it

"Hey!"

"Relax, we only need about 100cc of her blood, not her arm." Inspecting the ampule now full of blood, the four left.

"Beltway, we have Sherry Birkin's blood. Give me a sitrep on your side." There was no answer. Four Eyes and Spectre tried again several times to no avail. The only reply was silence. Four Eyes broke into a sprint. She was the one that was non-proficient in combat compared to the others. As far as she knew, there was no way that Beltway—-the vulgar, hard-drinking prankster and joker in possession of the toughest body that she had ever encountered and a genius level intellect of chemistry, physics and architecture—could die before her. Ignoring her shortness of breath, Four Eyes continued to scream Beltway's name at the top of her lungs.

They finally reached the point where they split up, but there were giblets of flesh belonging to both SPEC-OPS soldiers and infected. "Over…here," a soft groan answered. Beltway crawled out from a shipping crate, his gas mask and helmet destroyed and now rendered useless. His face showed pure fatigue, but the childlike glint of the trickster was still present in his eyes. "Guess I'll live to fight another day with you guys."

"You son of a bitch!" Four Eyes stomped her feet over to him and grabbed him by the collar, "A _nswer the damn call if you're alive!_ "

"My comms got busted in the fight! And woman _, you really think those explosions that held them off did NOTHING to my FUCKING HEARING?!"_

"I should kill you right now for scaring me."

"Hey, do what you gotta do." Instead, she straddled his legs, pulled his head close and mashed her lips onto his.

"Oi, you two. This isn't the Titanic. You can do that as much as you like when we _leave._ " Remembering they were doing this in full view of the other teammates, they immediately stopped and stood up. "As for the comms, you have no need of it. We are officially going AWOL on Umbrella. We must get the blood to Viper. Vector, Bertha, I know you're hearing this right now. We have the blood."

 _"_ _Well hurry up! There isn't much we can do anymore to keep his temperature under control and he's convulsing hard! Schnell!"_

"Four Eyes, stay with Spectre and patch Beltway up as much as you can and catch up. I will take the blood." Trading the submachine gun she had with the syringe, she pulled out her tomahawk and gripped it tightly as she began running.

Hurry. Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry! Lupo was in tears as she ran. It didn't matter to her right now if her leg shattered or if she started hyperventilating or if a lung collapsed. All that mattered right now was to get the syringe to the boy and if anything happened to her after, she would gladly accept it. Moving her legs as much as her stamina allows her, she roared like a lioness, tearing through the infected, never stopping for anything. "Take…..this…..please…" She gasped, holding the syringe-gun out.

Viper's face was in a sickly hue that no human being should have; sheet white with veins turning a deep, dark shade of blue. His face was soaked with sweat, his breathing raspy and irregular. Every now and then his body convulsed like an invisible taser was attacking him. Bertha snatched it out of Lupo's hand and jammed the needle into Viper's neck, injecting the contents of the ampule until it was gone. The convulsions became even greater, and Viper began screaming and thrashing like a rabid animal.

Vector immediately jumped on him, pinning his body down, knife at the ready in preparation for the worst turn of events. Lupo joined in as well by sitting on Viper's legs to keep them from kicking Vector in the back. Several minutes passed and the convulsions began to recede. His breathing started to fall back into a slow, regular pace. Putting a finger to his neck, Bertha checked her watch, nodding. "His breathing has normalized and his pulse is getting stronger. He'll survive…. _Was_ _zum_ _Teufel_? _"_

Aside from the minor bruises, scrapes and cuts, the gaping wound inflicted by the Licker was closing, healing, at an astonishing rate as if the effects of the occurrence itself were being rewinded. The wound was now nothing more than a thin and barely visible scar. As an aficionado in medical science, what Bertha was seeing was nothing short of a miracle. " _Oh_ _mein Gott…_ his wounds are closing. _"_

"He's still unconscious from the massive blood loss." Vector grunted as he used the flashlight on his pistol to check Viper's pupils. "But at least there's no rejective response from the G-Virus. We need to get out of here ASAP once we regroup."

"Karena. Karena! Hey, Karena!" She grunted in surprise and jerked her head up as Vector tapped her on the shoulder for the fifth time. Realizing she had been like that for quite some time now, Lupo noticed that the floating feeling and the sound of the propellers' rapid beating of the air had stopped. They had landed.

"You alright?"

" _Oui_ , I'm fine. Just…looking back on the past." Vector nodded and pursued the matter no further. Karena pulled out a photo with all of them huddled together, one of the few that exist that have no bullet holes or scorch marks. Karena was in the middle, smiling, her arms wrapped around a young Viper—-Ryuji—- with a pistol and knife in each hand, making a silly face while the other five huddled around them in a semi-circle, with gang signs, smirks and smiles of their own. This was a photo they took during a cookout after a successful job in the Crimean Peninsula. Out of all the photos they took, this was Karena's personal favorite that she keeps on her person. After one last look at the young boy she loved and raised as if he were her own, she tucked the photo away and descended from the helicopter.

"We were lucky to get our hands on weapons, but I'm willing to bet not being able to share ammo is going to bite us in our asses in the long run." Vladimir spoke up as he did a quick stretch after being cramped in the cockpit for so long.

"We're not here to look for a POI or to guard anyone. Fuck whoever else that isn't us." Hector chuckled as he pulled off the crate of weapons they were able to bring back across the sea. They took whatever was available that they were most comfortable with and began stuffing the plate carriers' pouches with magazines as much as possible and threw whatever they couldn't into separate bags.

"Vladimir, what's the estimated distance from here to the safe house?"

"From here? North-north east for about ten clicks, give or take a couple hundred meters. Getting the chopper onto the shopping mall was a close call, but I'm glad we made it. Last time I came here, I remember there being plenty of supplies we can use. There's a national highway nearby so getting a car would be the last of problems to worry about."

"Shopping mall, huh? Never did I ever think we'd be reenacting _Dawn Of The Dead._ That cliche situation has been overused like a rag in a dive bar." Vector sighed as he stuffed a pair of binoculars away into his bag, ending the quick reconnaissance. He rolled his shoulders and massaged his neck with a gloved hand. "We can't exactly call this a walk in the park. Human beings aren't all were up against. Plus, this isn't a movie."

"Dude, come _on_! Must you be such a fucking killjoy? How many years have we been doing this shit together? Huh? It doesn't matter who we're up against. We are the baddest of the badass teams that was, is or ever will be. And besides, if it's _that_ cliche, all we gotta do is not follow the tropes. Makes it even easier that they're blind and slow." Hector let out a hearty laugh, giving an affectionate slap on his brother-in-arms' back.

"And these are the kinds of places where we find medical supplies and camping equipment that come in handy in the future." Christine concurred. "Zombie apocalypse flick character or not, not having a mosey around is out of the question. If there are civilians here, we do what we must. From a medical standpoint, this virus as well as animals with a frontal lobe under extreme situations are far harder to deal with than infected."

"Who knows? Vector's death-glare may actually kill someone today." Vladimir joked as he adjusted the scope of his H&K G3KA4, but immediately shut his mouth as he felt the cold muzzle of Michaela's Browning Hi-Power pressed against the back of his neck.

"That's why _I'm_ here, _dummkopf._ He's still a bit of a loose cannon, even after all these years we've been together. If you think this is bad, you should have seen him when we went on a date in Rio. I _specifically_ told him no weapons, and guess what he had hidden in his boots and belt buckle? Don't you ever get bored and sick of having weapons on you all the time?"

"No. And we ended up needing them to save each other's lives on that occasion, so I don't see any reason for you to be mad."

"Oh please," Michaela scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "We didn't _need_ them. They were _kids!_ They barely knew how to fight properly!"

" _You were drunk!"_

"Enough. Both of you." Karena gave them both a firm slap on the back to silence them.

"Fine. Let's go." Vector grumbled as he started towards the emergency exit leading to the inside of the mall. "We've been here before, so we should have everything we need within an hour."

"Michaela, I thought we've been over this matter of teasing Vector." Karena eyed Michaela in a rebuking manner. "He may not look it, but he does have a soft spot. You know that better than most of us."

"I know, it's just….part of my nature. Being a bit of a bully, I mean. But that's what makes him so cute. I'll kiss and make up with him later."

"Well, ain't Vector unfortunate. A doctor without a full deck and a long-lasting sadistic streak. OW!" The grip of the Browning came down hard onto Hector's head with a dull thunking noise. Although his head was covered with a helmet, the force was enough to make him reel. "The fuck, man?!"

But Michaela too was already gone, walking through the door Vector just opened. Vladimir and Karena followed suit, each of them shaking heads and loosening sighs.

"That one was your fault, Hector. She is less of a sadist compared to way back when, so make sure you apologize to her later. Michaela's the type of woman that holds a grudge that lasts longer than an inoperable tumor or aneurysm in the brain. Also, get the rest of the stuff, will you?" Even Christine took Michaela's side, and Hector grumbled something about women being too cruel and picked up the large knapsack and duffel bag before following the five men and women.

The shopping mall's interior was simple but chic, with supermarkets, DIY stores, clothing stores, general stores, sporting stores, pharmacies, cafes and diners, which was far more than anyone imagined.

Karena and Vector began raiding spare changes of clothes, camping equipment and emergency food supplies; Vladimir and Hector searched for tools, fireworks, firecrackers and alcohol which they can use for creating IEDs and for repairing machinery; Michaela and Christine rummaged through the pharmacies from daily necessities like deodorant to prescription drugs such as powerful painkillers and antibiotics. Once the Wolfpack have enough supplies that they could carry without losing too much speed, they started moving back up to the roof.

"With this much, we'll need at least two cars. Vector, you're our quietest when it comes to moving. Find us something big, like a 4WD or an SUV. I'll follow and cover your six. Vladimir, post up on the roof and watch our back. You're our eye in the sky. If you must take a shot, don't hesitate. Just—"

"Make every one count. I understand." From the mountain of supplies, they pulled out a bundle of climbing rope and harnesses and got to work.

"Christine, Michaela and Hector, take all this to the cars once we get them here. We'll haul them down with the rope." The three of them nodded and stifled a laugh as they stared at their unchanged leader. "What?" Her rebuking eyes telling them to take the matter seriously only succeeded in coaxing their laughter even more.

"Oh, nothing. Just…do us a favor and don't ever change. This is why we need a woman like you." Michaela snickered as she wiped a tear from her eye.

"Indeed. Mama Wolf must always be large and in charge."

"Yes. We are the Wolfpack because _you_ are what makes us the Wolfpack, Karena."

"Just…get the stuff, please? We are on a timetable." Karena barked and turned her head to hide her slightly rosy cheeks and headed towards Vector who was all set to rappel down. She fitted on a harness of her own and tied the rope to the karabiner.

"Vector, Karena, your targets are the white Tahoe and the Volkswagen next to it." Vladimir announced. "Assume there are no keys."

"Hot-wiring them isn't impossible, but I'm not too keen on taking my chance with that, especially in these circumstances. Cars nowadays are a bitch to steal. If the alarms go off, the starter gets locked, and it's unusable."

"Ah, indeed. But not to worry, _tovarishch._ I will leave Michaela to watch your backs while I hack the cars. No alarm, no problems. The cars can be driven to our position as we planned."

Once the plan was set, Vector and Karena descended, landing and disengaging the karabiners carefully. Telling her to follow him, Vector slowly took each step, taking care to lower even his breathing to a bare whisper; a trick to keep his presence hidden from enemies beaten into him by HUNK. His hand lay flat on his left waist, right on the hilt of his trusty knife.

The cars were about a hundred or so meters away from the two cars, but with all the infected standing in their way, the mere hundred felt like the journey to the west itself. However Vector quickly turned some switches in his mind.

 _Calm down. It's just like infiltrating without killing the guards. All that's different is that there's no cover and the enemy is blind. All that's needed is to deceive their ears._

" _Vector, Karena, I'm ninety-five percent done. When you hear the engine start, raise your hand and get in the car. Our supplies are almost all on the ground as well."_ After about a minute of waiting, the locks on the car doors were disengaged, and the engines roared to life. They immediately jumped into the cars and floored the gas pedal, running over infected and sending them flying into the air. Once they stopped the cars to the drop-point, the four were climbing down the steel fire escape ladder. Vladimir had already retrieved the rope, which would definitely be of some use again at some point.

"One minute. Get them in the cars." Three of the Wolfpack stepped forth to hold the onslaught of infected while the others began tossing bags into the trunks. However, the cars seem to have been a lot louder than they anticipated. They were facing down an entire army of infected right now. Even the large SUV would have trouble getting through all of them without having a corpse or two getting stuck in the axle.

"Too many…Should we go around and out the back?" Vector asked Vladimir who was sitting next to him in the Volkswagen.

"No need for that. The diversion should activate. Right….about….now." As he snapped his fingers, the loud and irritating sound of a car alarm parked far away from the building went off and echoed into the distance. The infected all turned their head towards the sound in unison, and in a matter of few minutes, they all lumbered off. "Karena, time to drive fast."

As the two cars roared off into the roads, Hector and Michaela were hooting in celebration of their success, and everyone could hear it through their earpieces.

 _"_ _Fucking YES! We are the best in the goddamn world from Argentina to Xinghua, China! Every last goddamn one of us is still good to go, man! YEAH!"_

 _"_ _Indeed. The ever fearless vanguard duo, with the peerless speed, skill and guts. We can go meet our boy now. Fucking finally, I might add."_

Lupo stroked the picture in her pocket with a finger, with a wide smile plastered on her face.

 _Hang on. We're almost there. Just hang on._


	18. The Return Of The Six

AU: As promised, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

The six were getting closer to the safe house, but the speed they drove in was far quieter and therefore slower than usual. The reason quite simply being to avoid detection. A car engine may be reduced to a purr, but a purr was all it took to attract attention from the infected in the deserted streets at night. A small pack can be rammed through with the Tahoe but if the pack were not a pack but a legion, then they would have to back up. The worst case scenario was getting sandwiched in between two hordes that get attracted by the sound of the engines. Ditching the cars were certainly an option, but leaving the supplies they went to the trouble of packing was out of the question. Therefore they paid extra attention when driving, never accelerating excessively.

"Karena? You keep rubbing your stomach. Are you alright?"

Realizing she was stroking the folded up photo in her pocket, Karena gripped the wheel with both hands. "Yes, I'm fine."

"I know. You can't wait to see him, right? I understand. But," Michaela's tone of voice suddenly dropped an octave, turning cold. Threatening. She felt something cold and hard pick against her throat; a scalpel. "If you crash the car out of impatience, I don't give a damn who you are. If Vector dies or gets bitten, I will kill you. Ryuji is our special boy, and he is even more special to you, yes. But don't forget. Just as he is special to you, Vector is to me in a different way."

Karena nodded with her jaw squared, and Michaela pulled the blade away.

"Vladimir," Vector called out, "This is a rough headcount but we have at least two hundred infected on our asses, give or take. Thirty meters."

"Then it's about time we set out more bait. Vector, Karena, turn right and stop. Kill the engines too." The two cars pulled up to the side of the road and their lights turned off, plunging the area into darkness.

Vladimir knocked on the car roof, signaling Christine to take his gun and handed him a slingshot and a golfball sized sphere in exchange. Nestling the ball in the pouch, he pulled it back as far as the bands allowed, and after a quick breath, released. It sailed through the still night air and disappeared into the darkness. After about ten seconds elapsed, sporadic popping noises erupted in the distance. "Don't start the engine yet." he whispered. "Make sure they take the bait first. Wait for my signal."

A sniper is a soldier specializing in eliminating enemies from long distances with a single shot. Before, during and after the shot is taken, they must remain stock-still for hours on end. Vladimir kept his eye on the radar and the horde, taking quick, short breaths through his mouth. Once the distance between them exceeded a hundred meters, he lightly tapped the roof of the car. The Tahoe and Volkswagen's engines roared to life as the drivers shifted the gear into reverse, returned on the route they were on and sped away. It was a single, straight road with no hills, which made distancing them far easier.

"Vladimir, how much further?"

"Four clicks and a half. Slow down and take a left on the next intersection…Now!" The cars' speed decreased, but the curve was nonetheless a sudden one. The wheels on the right side left the paved road for a few seconds, almost throwing Vladimir out of the car. What saved him was that he was not holding a weapon at the time and his hands were free. "Vector, what the fuck!? I told you to _slow down._ You didn't even hit the breaks!"

"Sorry," Vector grunted, "it's been a while since we did grand theft auto, so I got a tad bit….carried away with this joy-ride. I apologize."

"Two more clicks ahead and take a right at that corner; take a left after one click and a half. Drive straight and we'll be there. At the speed we're going, I'd say ETA is…. oh, seven to ten minutes."

Around that same time, Ryuji woke up. He checked his watch and sucked on his teeth. The hands of his watch indicated with a faint glow that it was already half past eleven at night. The water was not running but he could hear no movement, meaning everyone that is within earshot is most likely sleeping. Beside him, Saeko was still sleeping soundly, a wide contented smile on her lips. The light cotton blanket covered most of her body but whatever was exposed were covered in nail marks, bite marks and hickeys, as was his.

Ryuji smiled, his hand disappearing into the tangles of her luscious, dark locks, fingers gently stroking her head. She was the best single woman he had slept with as far as he could remember. Being a maiden, she was not well-versed as Ryuji was in sexual techniques, but after being made to climax so many times at the mercy of the extremely thorough and relentless foreplay, her body seemed to have acclimated to letting the carnal pleasure guide the rest of her actions.

As far as Ryuji could tell, Saeko was a paradoxical woman when it came to sex. On the bed, she was both ravenous and docile, ferocious yet adorable. One minute she moans loudly into the pillow as he plowed her and in another she straddles him and grinds her hips against his, smiling, her eyes shimmering with the venomous pleasure. Violence and sex is said to be closely associated, But he had never met a woman his age who embodies that; epitomizes it, even.

Throwing on a clean change of clothes and his tactical gear, he turned the air conditioner on to rid the room of the heavy musk of sex that now hung in the room like a heavy fog. Placing a kiss on the still sleeping Saeko's lips, Ryuji quietly climbed up the stairs to the roof.

Kota was still there, but even he was unable to resist the urges of sleep and was drooling as he mumbled something.

"Kota, I don't mind you sleeping, but do it inside." Ryuji tapped him on the shoulder.

"Wuh?" Kota opened his eyes, the drowsiness still apparent on his face. Rubbing the crust out from his eyes, he adjusted his glasses and stretched as he yawned through a 'good morning'.

"So? Anything happen before you dozed off?"

"There was a guy with an double barrel shotgun, but he was taken down quickly. I was checking the news with this small TV. There was a broadcast on Tokonosu bridge and Onbetsu bridge streaming, and it's nothing less than a Hurricane Sandy-level shitstorm. There were several conspiracy theorists saying America has something to do with this. Also, on the other side are infected, so there's definitely some action going down there. I heard other popping noises that wasn't gunfire too. It was pretty close."

"Which way?" Ryuji peered through the binoculars Kota was using at the direction he pointed in. Zooming in on two sets of headlights, Ryuji began to laugh.

"What?"

"They're here. My comrades in arms…my family." Taking the sling of the MP7 off, he shoved them towards Kota along with the spare magazines. Once they leave the car, focus on their flanks and their six. Do _not_ miss."

"Roger that."

Disregarding the fact that there are people sleeping, Ryuji noisily raced down the stairs, turned his radio on and voices erupted from the earpiece. He pulled the gas mask on once he reached the ground floor. "Guys, there's going to be some cover fire from the ground and the roof."

 _"_ _Good to know, but keep it minimal. Save the bullets."_

" 'kay, mom." Checking the chamber of his P-14, he screwed the suppressor on and activated the night vision gimmick in his mask, changing his field of vision an eerie green color. He could see from the window the Wolfpack running towards the safe house. Hector and Vladimir were clearing out the path with the small explosive balls by firing them into the distance to avoid using ammunition as much as possible.

Despite the scarcity of optimal angles to shoot from the front door and being nighttime, Ryuji and Kota provided expert cover as the Wolfpack stacked up and headed towards the gate. Once everyone was inside the building, Ryuji wrapped his arms around Karena. "I missed you, mom."

"As did I and everyone else, _mon garçon._ " Karena planted a big kiss on both of his cheeks before hugging him again. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"You're here in one piece. I forgive you."

"Hey, stop hogging him all to yourself." Ryuji felt himself being pulled by his collar towards Michaela, who rained down kisses of her own on his head as she snuggled him like a giant plush toy. "Nice to see you again, _soldatenjunge._ "

"You too, _Frau Doktor._ We have some…unexpected house guests and the bath is ready, so knock yourself out."

"Hey, _cabron,_ where's _my_ homecoming welcome, huh?" Hector stepped forth before picking Ryuji up into a bone-crushing bearhug. Christine joined in as she jumped up and embraced Ryuji from behind, who was already lifted off the ground.

"Okay, leggo of me now." He croaked, tapping the giant on the shoulder. He took a deep breath before rubbing his chest in pain.

" _Prochnost._ " Vladimir said with a smile, holding out his right hand. "Nice to see you're alive.

"You too. _Prochnost._ " Ryuji returned the greeting by taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"I hate to break up the moment where the Magnificent Seven get reunited," Vector quipped, "but Hector is way too big to keep in the doorway with all this luggage, and I need a cold shower as well as a shave. Any of you mind moving this elsewhere? Perhaps further inside this compound? Maybe even knock back a cold glass of green tea?"

"I want a Coke." Hector piped up. "With ice."

"I'll get the drinks. You guys take your time to unpack everything." Barely being able to contain the relief and happiness in his heart, Ryuji headed back for the living room. They were finally home. They were finally reunited; all of them. Now he could watch their back as they watch his. He could be their good luck charm again.

* * *

As always, favorite, follow, and drops some reviews! Many thanks!


	19. Necessities For Survival

Now the Wolfpack has truly reconvened, setting things down and preparations for relaxing came very quickly. Ryuji prepared drinks and began cooking up a pot of curry, a convenient dish enabling him to mix in a variety of vegetables as well as meat. As the smell of various spices wafted through the air, Kota came lumbering down the stairs, eyes widened in surprise at Ryuji's efficiency at housework.

"You can _really_ do a lot of things, huh?"

"The six men and women you covered paired up and took shifts of two months to spend with me. I didn't have much of a choice when I had to stay home and hold down the fort. As for cooking, there are two people who are extremely picky and are sticklers for respecting the process of preparing food. Now you could throw me into a mountain, and I'll find a way to make the best food available."

"I believe you. And your….parents, I guess? They're _really_ good. I've seen the SAS do worse. No wonder you're such a badass." Ryuji snorted. Who does he think they are? They are the specialists in specific fields of warfare who make self-proclaimed specialists seem like rank amateurs that barely a pinch of people could hold a candle to. Forget the SAS, Delta Force and Spetsnaz. They'd be torn apart and become their buffet lunch.

As much as he wished he could say that out loud, Ryuji managed to stifle that urge and smirked a little with pride. "I went to wake the ladies up, but they're still probably rolling around trying to catch another wink. Go wake up the good doctor and Takagi. I'll get Saeko. We'll explain our plans from this point on."

Just as he placed the pot of curry and the large rice cooker on the table, they came down the stairs, all cleaned up and in a fresh change of clothes. All of them were dressed in cargo pants or sweatpants and tanktops, with sidearms and knives still hanging from their thighs and hips like Ryuji.

"God, that smell is making me even hungrier." Hector rubbed his growling stomach as he eagerly took a seat.

 _"_ _Go ahead and help yourself,"_ Ryuji switched to Spanish as he motioned the others to sit. _"Whatever drink you want is in the fridge. We got three more coming."_

 _"_ _Sure thing."_ Hector nodded as he helped himself to a bowl full of rice and a generous helping of curry. _"Who's he though?"_ He asked, pointing at Kota with a spoon. Karena's gaze followed the spoon, and her eyes momentarily had a dangerous light in them, the reason being that Kota was still holding onto Ryuji's MP7 with the spare magazines stuffed in his pockets.

Kota immediately regretted meeting their gaze, and immediately shifted his gaze down. While receiving training in handling firearms overseas, he met active military officers at the range, and their expression was frightening. However, Karena and the other five men and women sitting with her were far worse. That is, they wore their fighting spirit and killing intent that seemed to be causing a difference in the atmosphere's temperature so naturally like it was an article of clothing. Lowering his gaze, he immediately realized a small red dot dancing across his chest. It was from a laser sight of a handgun. And Vladimir was holding it. The sunken eyes of the Russian sniper paired with his pale skin reminded Kota of a skull, and the thin smile on his lips did not help. Vector, who was sitting next to him, was spinning a knife between his fingers, with eyes on Kota and ready to make him taste steel should he try anything.

 _"_ _That's one of the four people I told Vladimir about who ended up tagging along with me. Don't worry, best to my knowledge, they won't do anything stupid. They enjoy the privilege of breathing freely."_ Hector laughed upon hearing the last sentence. "Kota, come on. Go upstairs and get the others. Oh, but uh, leave the gun here, okay?" Kota wasted no time in removing the sling and magazines and racing up the stairs, the look of fright clear on his face.

Ryuji then sauntered back into his own room and found Saeko still covered in nothing but the bedsheets, rubbing her eyes. "Hey." He said knocking the door.

She turned beet-red, and began fumbling around for the robe and her lingerie. "G-good morning." Saeko replied once she was decent. "Were those gunshots?"

"Yeah, my people are back. Took 'em long enough, I might add."

"Well, better late than never. Besides—" Saeko stopped mid-speech, noticing the teeth marks, love bites and thin, long welts running across his body. They were only visible on his arms, neck and shoulders. Some of them had formed scabs, meaning she drew blood. and there were definitely more underneath. "Oh my god….Did I…Was that _me?_ I am so sorry, I-I didn't mean—"

"It's fine," Ryuji silenced her by placing a finger on her lips and then stoppered her lips with his before any more words of apology came streaming out. "I did the same thing to you, so we're even. Besides, I like girls that are… _passionate_ in the sack and the battlefield, which you are. Come on. I'll introduce you." Taking her hand, he guided her to the living room.

"So, this is the girl you were talking about with Vladimir." Karena eyed her carefully from head to toe, evaluating Saeko's potential as a soldier. Saeko stared back at her, and was surprised. Her Japanese was nearly flawless aside from the close to nonexistent accent.

"Yup, this is Saeko Busujima. And FYI, she's planning to stick around with us."

"Is she any good?" Karena continued to look her over several times, cocking her head slightly to one side. "I will give a pass in terms of never touching a gun before in her life, since it can't really be helped considering the laws of this country, but unless she is as proficient in combat as either you or Vector, I will have to veto."

"I'm aware and I understand. But I promise you, she'll learn quick. She's been doing martial arts probably since she could walk, so she definitely has the dexterity and stamina of a soldier. Well, more a fresh recruit, but you know what I mean. Give her a machete, a compound bow, or just some long, blunt instrument and she'll be good to go."

"Ma'am, I have no intention of putting anyone here at risk, aside from myself. I will clean up any mess I make. I may have been born into the family of a martial artist, but compared to you, I am nothing but a mere girl. I will not complain if the situation compels you to sacrifice my life. All I wish for is to fight beside him." Watching the girl bow her head, Karena shifted her gaze to Vector, speaking to him only through stares. Vector met her eyes with his lips to a cup of cold green tea. His gaze flicked several times between her and Saeko, but gave a small nod in silence.

"If you say so. But," she added, cutting off Saeko's words of gratitude which were just on the tip of her tongue, "A word of warning from one woman to another: the men here—"

"Professor? It's you, isn't it?" Shizuka's voice came from the stairs, followed by Kota and Saya. She was staring at Michaela and Christine with eyes wide in disbelief.

"Oh my. I haven't seen you in a long time. I knew you were a gem since I first saw you, but you have certainly turned yourself into quite the sexy heartbreaker, Shizuka. So? Did you find anyone worthy?"

"Wrong question to ask in this situation." Christine said after swallowing a spoonful from her bowl. "But I must admit I am genuinely surprised to see someone as air-headed and ditzy as you survived up to now."

It was unclear whether the shower and sleep eased the burden of fatigue or because she saw Michaela and Christine, she raced down the stairs faster than anyone had ever seen, and tackled the two with a hug, her face glistening with tears and snot as she cried her eyes out.

Christine frowned at the unwelcoming sensation of her clothes getting dampened, but took no action to shove her away. Michaela on the other hand patted her on the back and stroked her hair like she did before when Ryuji was still young and cried more frequently.

Unable to understand what was going on right now, Kota and Saya could do and say nothing.

The meal proceeded silently. Kota and Saya both went to the bathroom, unable to bear the weight the atmosphere carried due to the silence.

"Now, just to reconfirm for the immediate future." Karena broke the silence (in Japanese) after finishing her cup of tea. "Two of the four that came here with Ryuji wishes to stay with us, and the other two wishes to go to the Takagi mansion?"

"Ah, Karena, if I may?" Vladimir raised his hand with a cigarette in his mouth. "I am not too keen on letting them go too easily. The girl is the only daughter of the head of one of the most powerful ultranationalist organizations that I know of in this country. I don't know much about the mother, but the father absolutely despises _gaijin._ Now that they know about this place, wouldn't giving her back to them pose a liability? For all we know we could have their forces crashing through the walls of this compound in the future."

"How _dare_ you insinuate such a thing!" Saya stood up, knocking the chair flat on its back, glaring at Vladimir. "Do I _look_ like that much of an ungrateful bitch to you?!"

He merely snorted and shrugged, unimpressed. "Say what you like. I just have a very careful disposition. We all have a common goal of survival and I am merely counting off one of the possibilities to ascertain what we must do in order to achieve that common goal. So if you wish to leave, I suggest you start making a better impression."

"Vladimir, give it a rest. It's unbecoming of you to act like a bully." Ryuji tossed the empty can of beer aimed at Vladimir's head, but he caught it deftly in midair without so much as a glance behind him.

"Sorry. Doing it to you guys gets boring after being together for as long as we can remember." He blew several rings of smoke into the air as he chuckled to himself. "Anyways, leaving the highly unlikely event of being attacked….We should expect trouble if we're going to bring them back. Who knows? Someone may die." He jammed the cigarette stub into the ashtray. "Even if we use gas masks to hide our faces, anyone aside from Vector, Christine and Ryuji have an accent in their Japanese. One slip of the tongue and things will get ugly."

"Right." Ryuji said as he loosened a rather loud belch. "The people who are one hundred percent safe going there is three people including me, since I'm acquainted with both of them. We should have at the very least two people marking each mark."

"May I assist you, if that is the case?" Everyone turned their head towards Saeko, who spoke up. "If I go, the number of people needed to cover the two will balance out. I also do remember my father speaking to a man with the name Takagi as well. Whether or not the person we are about to meet is the same one, my presence should not pose a problem. I am fully Japanese, after all."

"Better safe than sorry. We could use the numbers, so I'm all for it. Anyone else agree?" Ryuji raised his hand, and everyone else soon followed suit. "Okay, we have a unanimous decision."

"We use the Tahoe outside. We roll out tomorrow morning at 0730. Get your gear ready by then and meet down here. We adults have some….business to attend to. Michaela, Christine, if you would be so kind?" Karena lightly touched her left arm with a finger. The two nodded, and they took Shizuka along with them at the head of the line. Everyone else left the room to the second floor.

"Oh my fucking god." Kota let out a long sigh of relief. "I've never felt so high strung while eating. I couldn't tell the taste."

"Really? I think it tasted marvelous." Saeko flashed a knowing smile at Ryuji.

"You may think so since you're going to be staying, but the same can't be said for us, okay? Jeez. So, what was that hand sign?"

"What hand sign?"

"Are you _seriously_ playing dumb with me right now?

"Are _you_ seriously willing to risk meeting your parents in one piece?" That shut her up instantly. Although coincidental, they are still under the care of the Wolfpack. Food, temporary safety, and a place to rest were all provided by them. Their lives were in the Wolfpack's hands. They had no place there as strangers to the pack; nor were they even welcome. The only choice they had was to obey. "Look, I don't mind your being sharp, but don't ask too many questions for both our sakes. Saeko, you go with them too. Tell them you're there on my behalf."

With a small nod, she silently ascended the stairs.

"Now then, how to proceed with this negotiation?"

"What negotiation?"

"Do I really have to spell this out? There is still some risk involved in delivering you to Mr. and Mrs. Takagi. We'd like a profit of some kind if we're going through with this, like information they have about what's going on that we don't have, some fuel for the journey back and maybe even some ammo. I know for a fact that they have military grade weapons acquired through illegal channels from a U.S. Army fort in Japan and from the JSDF. If we can't get ammo.…well, two out of three ain't too bad, right?"

The Wolfpack, Shizuka and Saeko meanwhile, were getting vaccinations of the T-Virus. Although the reason for the pandemic still remains unclear and made it seem pointless, it was still a precaution worth taking than not. During this time, Michaela gave a short synopsis of part of her life story while leaving important parts vague.

"I never would've guessed that you two were former military members. Now that you say that, I can imagine you two in uniform."

"I'm a scientist by profession so I spent more time in the lab than in the battlefield though. Now that we've taken some precautions, I need to organize the things that we know about this pandemic in order to get a better understanding of the virus that caused it." Turning on the projector, Christine's laptop screen lit up on the white wallpaper.

Manmade virus (T-Virus?)

Exclusively targets humans

Slower physical activity than T-Virus contractors

High muscular strength

Relies on auditory senses only

Extreme loss of body parts or destruction of head neutralizes them

Faster infection speed than T-Virus (time varies)

Infection route: bites (saliva/blood?) others unknown

Possibilities of mutation/evolution : unknown

"Shizuka, do yourself a favor and commit these details to memory. It'll save your gra—life. I meant life." Michaela giggled quietly at Christine who was talking as if she were giving a lecture in college again.

"Yes, ma'am. But there's more that's unknown than what is known. Infection routes vary by virus types too. isn't airborne infection a possibility?"

"Good question. That is highly unlikely, thankfully. Before we got to Japan the surrounding area was infested with infected and we weren't wearing gas masks then, so if the virus were aerial, we would be long dead. My hypothesis is that it's either the blood or the saliva, or maybe a combination of the two. Or it could be something else entirely." During the two times Saya and Kota excused themselves to the restroom, their food and drinks were spiked with a milliliter of blood and saliva, respectively. However, no matter how much time passed neither one of them showed even the slightest of the early symptoms of infection, ridding the possibility of oral and mucus infection.

"So the only possibility for a healthy person to get infected is through biting?"

"That's the only known way to us that we've seen thus far, yes. I need to sleep and then leave once it's lighter out, so if you have any more questions, ask them before I leave."

"Hmmm…." Shizuka pursed her lips and frowned for a bit and asked, "what is this T-Virus? I've never heard of it."

"It'll take a while to fully explain and for you to understand so, get the abridged version from Michaela. Good night."

"Hey!" Michaela protested as Christine quickly walked off to her room and shut the door. Vector had already disappeared as well, which nobody noticed until they heard the door shut and the lock click into place. "Alright, come along. I'll tell you in my room. Make sure you take notes, because I won't be repeating myself again."

"Okay!" She smiled and followed her former mentor as if she were back on the college campus again, humming a tune.


	20. Delivery Service

Oh my dear god, I can finally end the hiatus! Terribly sorry to those of you who have been waiting, and thank you for those who follow/favorited this fanfic that has been dead for a while now. Enjoy.

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7:30 a.m. came. A sliver of sunlight peeked through the gaps of the closed curtains. The preparations for transferring the two teen agers were set, and the four meant to guard them were at the living room. Kota and Saya were still rubbing their eyes and stifling yawns. Saeko was a little drowsy herself, but was far more at attention than them. The three members of the Wolfpack, however, were different. They had already been awake from the hour prior to their departure, finished a light warmup exercise, and were currently going through the final weapon check.

Aside from knives, Vector and Christine were armed with the pistols and assault rifles they had taken during their escape from Guam, and Ryuji was equipped with the weapons he had stashed on the roof of the school and an additional rifle.

Saeko was wearing some old clothes given to her by the women in the Wolfpack as well as a bulletproof vest. Aside from the wooden sword she owned, Ryuji gave her a machete as a spare weapon, which she wore on her hip with a belt.

"Ryuji, Christine, I'll be leading until this operation is over. Wheels up at 0800. Busujima, I don't mind that you can fight without a gun, but do everyone a favor and stay out of the line of fire. And have Ryuji teach you on how to use one."

"Yes sir." Saeko replied, tensing up.

Vector then motioned with his head to Ryuji to give her a gun. With some reluctance, he pulled the backup pistol hidden in his ankle holster and handed it to her. Out of the many guns that exist in the market, Saeko was given a snub-nose revolver, renowned for its reliability, durability and simplicity in its structure, along with several spare rounds fitted in full moon clips. "This is used by uniformed cops in the Japanese MPD called the Smith & Wesson M37. Hold it."

Saeko took the gun into her hands, and was surprised by its weight despite the size. She knew swords were deceptively heavy, and expected no less from a gun, but holding an actual functioning firearm felt different. She wasn't sure how to explain it, but it was just…different.

"Put your left hand here." He guided her hand to the butt end of the grip. "And tighten your hand's grip a bit. un This'll keep your gun arm steady. When you actually shoot, tighten it even more. It's a lot louder than you think, so just watch out for that. When you run out, use your thumb to push this metal piece forward. That will loosen the cylinder and it'll swing out to the left. tip the bullets out, load it, push the cylinder back, and you're ready to fire again. To aim, line the wedge of up the rear sight with the front sight on the end of the barrel. Finally, when you shoot, cock the hammer. Pulling the trigger is actually easier in that state, and reduces your hands from shaking immediately after firing."

Saeko ruminated and practiced for several minutes to grasp the basics of handling a weapon safely. Ryuji even tested her several times with various questions of gun parts' names, how to operate them, and the stances for properly shooting. "How am I doing?"

"It's a start. Just don't fire haphazardly. It doesn't have too much stopping power but it's loud enough and you only have five rounds. Ask—"

"Before firing. And make it count."

"Good. Vector, we're ready to go."

"Duly noted." Finishing up the last touches of sharpening his knives, he slipped them back into the various sheathes on his vest, thighs and belt buckle. Vector took the lead as they headed out of the safe house. Signaling the others to hold their position, he quickly and quietly climbed over the gate, nimble as a cat. He then moved across the walls surrounding the other houses. Considering he was now in his early forties, this feat came as a surprise to the ones unfamiliar with him. However, there was one problem The walls across from him were closer to the Tahoe, and with or without a running start, it was not a distance that he could make. The only choice was to walk across the road.

Vector counted to three in his mind, took a deep breath, and held his breath as he slowly brought his foot down on the pavement. _Cloak and dagger. Quick but steady. Cold and smooth._ Vector continued this mantra on and on as he advanced, reminiscing about the days of being under the tutelage of HUNK, walking through hundreds of battlefields with him. There was a time when they were tasked with an assassination of a high profile target at a summer island. The target was properly paranoid, beyond their expectations. The entire island which he purchased was covered with security detail as well as traps consisting of landmines. Rather than planning something elaborate, HUNK took a simple choice: walking through the landmines.

He too had experience walking through landmines and almost wound up dead several times, but now he could sniff out where they are placed about eight times out of ten like a bloodhound.

 _Soft steps, like the wings of an owl. Heel first, then toes. Keep the pressure minimal and there'll be no problem. Just think of it as a minefield. I have time. Slowly, calmly, and set the pace. I have time. All the time in the world._ Without so much as disturbing the gravel, Vector danced around the infected with light unfaltering steps, and slid himself into the driver seat. The engine roared to life as he jammed a screwdriver into the ignition and twisted. "Christine, move. Now." Flooring the gas pedal and mowing down the infected, he stopped in front of the gate which was slightly ajar, enough for all of them to slip through.

 _"_ _Khorosho, all aboard. Vector, drive in reverse until I tell you otherwise."_ Once they all were in the car, immediately Vladimir's instructions sounded.

"Copy that." Ignoring the fact that not all of them were actually seated in the car with their seatbelt on, Vector shifted the gear into reverse and slammed down on the gas, throwing half of the passengers forward, face first into windows and backs of seats. Ignoring the complaints from the back, Vector kept driving.

 _"_ _A few more meters and decelerate. Stop once and take the road on your left. Stay on that road and you should be able to see the riot on the bridge. These comms are only for short distances so in another hundred meters or so and it'll be useless, but Christine has a high power man pack radio with her that I designed with EMP countermeasures, so use that for future communication. The channel is already set, so once these comms go down, switch to that one. I will give you the shortest route. Christine, if you're unclear on how to operate it, have our lucky boy help you."_

"Got it."

Now that the car was being driven at a relatively safe speed, those who were thrown around a while ago were able to actually sit down.

Christine made several attempts to turn the radio on and make it function properly, but to no avail. Without turning back, she handed the man pack to Ryuji who was sitting directly behind her. "Sorry….could you…?" She was well versed in operating centrifuges, microscopes and other equipment used in her field of expertise, but mechanics was far from one of her strong suits.

"Sure." Pondering for a bit if Vladimir gave her the radio equipment as a joke, Ryuji took the pack and in a matter of seconds, lights began flickering and the radio was operational. "Testing, testing, one-two. Front desk, this is Transporter. Do you read me? Over."

 _"_ _Transporter, this is Front desk. Receiving you loud and clear. Another two clicks on the road you're on and there should be a small path on the right near a stream. Get across to the other side and await further instructions."_

"Roger that, but can this car go across water?"

 _"_ _Judging by the shape, that's a second generation Tahoe. A full-size SUV is fairly tall and it should have that ability. But just to make sure, take a shallow route. If the water gets in the engine as you go across would be an even worse situation."_

"Alright. Vector, you heard the man." He replied silently with a thumbs up with his eyes still on the road.

"Hang on to something." He warned as he arrived at the small path. Slowing the car down, he gingerly applied and released the pressure on the gas pedal over the rocks. The water was not as deep as they had anticipated and were able to make it across. Vector then motioned to hand over the microphone. "Vladimir, we made it. Currently trying to get the water out. Higashizaka number two, correct? How may infected in the area?"

 _"_ _Yes. As for the answer to your second question, I can't give you an exact number. I can tell you it's not 10^68."_

"Obviously it can't be a hundred unvigintillion." Vector snorted. "We don't even have that many people in the world to begin with."

 _"_ _My my, you still need to learn how to make a joke every now and then. Do you not enjoy laughing at all, by any chance? Even Christine laughs at Hector's jokes."_

"Out of respect for what you did for me while we were in Dubai, I will pretend I didn't hear that. Give me directions. Now."

 _"_ _Alright, alright. No need to get so huffy, Vector. I'll navigate you where there are the least infected, but if you get closer, there will inevitably be more of them."_

"No need to worry. Hector got me some IEDs and claymores. We'll use them if it comes down to that. And some phosphate rock."

 _"_ _Courtesy of your beloved, no doubt."_

Upon hearing that, Christine's ears and neck exposed through her short bobbed hair turned red. "Shut up. Give us the directions."

Following Vladimir's words, the distance between them and Higashizaka number two was decreasing. _"Vector, turn whenever you can. Like right now."_

Vector was about to ask why, but the reason was clear. About three hundred meters away were several hundred figures coming towards them. Jerking the steering wheel to the right, the Tahoe's tires squealed as the body turned right, but they ran right into another pack of infected, not even a hundred meters away. "Vladimir, we have a problem. What the hell is this?"

 _"_ _Take a left just before you approach them. Apologies, everyone else is taking watch right now, and I am the only one operating as the eyes, which I do not have enough of right now. It's a single road after that. Ram through them."_

Due to jerking the wheel so abruptly, the tires on the right side of the car left the ground, making Ryuji's stomach do a somersault or two, his heartbeat accelerating, his lips widening into a wide grin. Things were about to get exciting.

"Everyone brace for impact. This will get rough." Not really caring if anyone else heard him, Vector slammed his foot down on the gas. The roaring engine and the dull, sporadic din of bodies slamming into the car shook the car violently.

Suddenly, Ryuji felt something was off. It was this ambiguous feeling of dread he always gets when something was about to happen, and more often than not it was bad. Taking care not to get clocked in the face by the infected they were running into and sending high into the air, he peered out of the sunroof. Something was reflecting the sunlight. An alarm blared in his were wires that were placed across the entire street they were on. "VECTOR!" He screamed, pounding on the roof with his fist. "TURN THE CAR SIDEWAYS RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

Listening to Ryuji, who had the best intuition out of the entire team, was an unspoken rule. Vector spun the steering wheel to the left as much as he could and hit the brakes, but the screeching sound of tire against asphalt didn't stop. The blood and guts of the infected were taking away the traction. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Vector took his foot off the brake and instead stepped on the gas pedal slightly. The wheels stopped screeching but the momentum was still there. Again he slammed on the brakes and even pulled the hand brake lever up. The car's rear wheels left the ground, throwing everyone forward.

"Ah, shit." Ryuji was the only one who had undone his seatbelt to look from the sunroof. The force of the car tipping forward sent him flying through. He felt his body leave the car and fly through the air. Immediately tucking his body into a ball, Ryuji performed a somersault and landed on his feet. "Ah, _shit!_ " He turned only to see the infected converging at their position. The two in the front seats were already in action, knives tearing through the airbags.

The others were very much alive, albeit dazed from the impact. Opening the rear doors, he lightly slapped each of them in the face to get them to come to their senses. "C'mon, people. Time to get off."

"Ryuji, We're using the car to climb over to the other side. You mind providing cover?" Christine asked as she shook several shards of glass from her hair.

"Any time." Ryuji undid the safety on his IMI Tavor AR21 he chose for the mission and opened fire. Tracing the heads of the infected with his iron sights while pulling the trigger, the infected dropped left in right with a single bullet hole in their head. The spent rounds clinked and skittered across the ground as they fell in heaps.

While he kept the infected at bay, Vector and Christine more or less tossed the two "cargo" over to the other side of the wire.

"I can—"

"No," Vector grabbed Saeko by the shoulder in a vice-like grip, stopping her advance to help Ryuji. "Go to other side and watch them. Make sure they're alright. We don't need you in the line of fire. _We_ are the professionals here. Fall in line or fall by the wayside."

Reluctantly, Saeko jumped over the wires and rolled upon landing to break her fall. Vector and Christine soon followed suit. Seeing everyone else was on the other side, Ryuji turned around, took several steps, and jumped up, landing on the car with barely any momentum from the run-up. From there, he did a backflip off the car and landed on the opposite side with the others.

"Are you unhurt?" Saeko hurried over to him looking worried. "My heart stopped when I saw you get thrown out of the sunroof."

"I'm fine," he chuckled as he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Besides, you saw me make that ten-point landing. This is just another day at the office for me."

 _"_ _Vector, I saw heat signatures of gunfire from the satellite, are you all alright?"_ Vladimir's voice crackled through the hand mic. Miraculously. it survived the crash and was perfectly functional.

"We're all alive, if that's what you mean. Package is still secure and undamaged, but our only ride's totaled." He frowned under the mask at the Tahoe. He did like that car, somewhat.

 _"_ _Going to the safe house and then driving without refills was a bad idea. It may be built strong, it is uh…how do American's put it? Gas-guzzler, I believe? Not the most fuel efficient vehicle."_

"As for the gunfire, that was Ryuji providing cover for us. We're going to have more on our asses after that. Give us a short route that we can take on foot to get to the estate ASAP."

 _"_ _Copy that. Give me two minutes. I would also suggest shutting those things up as much as you can right now. Gunfire is loud, but the sound the infected make is enough to attract more."_

"Fine. We'll get on that. Ryuji, you mind working a little more?"

"Not at all. I need the exercise. Saeko, you mind cutting in on the action?" Ryuji asked as he looked at the machete she wore on her waist. He shouldered the Tavor and drew two knives.

"I would be glad to assist you." Her hand flew to the hilt of the machete, which gave a slight ring as she drew it from the scabbard.

"Are you afraid of him? Of Ryuji?" Christine asked Saya, who blankly stared at the two as they gleefully began slaughtering any infected that got too close to the wires.

"I'm fine. I'm used to it now." She asserted, but tightened her hands into fists until her knuckles turned sheet-white lest anyone find out she was actually trembling.

"Just so you know, that is only when he is in a good mood. While he smiles and laughs, we can rest easy, but if he goes into conniptions, stay out of his way. I came close to thinking that he might kill me when our eyes met." The incident took place four to five years ago. The Wolfpack was planning on erasing a certain mob in a country in southeast Asia in order to get their hands on their supplies and capital. Their first plan fell to pieces, and to make matters worse Karena sustained heavy injuries, forcing them to retreat. Seeing her injured sent Ryuji into a murdering spree while his team was coming up with a new plan. He single handedly killed everyone in the mob's compound, from soldier to executive. By the time the Wolfpack was about to execute their second plan, they found Ryuji sitting at the front door drenched in blood, sleeping. In his hands were several empty pistols along with a machete and a knife that were both dulled, chipped, or broken from excessive use. "So I would avoid offending him. Karena is the only one who can stop him without getting hurt. Both of you."

"Thanks for the warning, professor." Saya snorted as she rolled her eyes. "What makes you think I'd put my own life in danger?"

Kota merely nodded in silence, profusely. Seeing Ryuji tear apart the thugs that attacked them made him shiver uncontrollably and stopped words forming in his mouth. No man would be brave or stupid enough to face off against someone like that.

 _"_ _Bingo. There are blockades made of concrete blocks to stop cars from advancing. Turn left and keep going straight on the third intersection….what the fuck?"_

"What? What do you see?"

 _"_ _There are several cars heading towards you. ETA is six minutes and thirty-two seconds. Trying to put names to faces on the databases…..Aaaand, here we go. Japanese yakuza going by the name of the Takamiya group who's made international connections, known for their violent methods. These are probably what's left of them. I switched to thermal, and they have twice as many people than you."_


	21. Live To Fight, Fight to Live

Vector swore silently as both he and Christine undid the safety on their weapons. If they were lucky, the cars would take a turn before they arrived here, thus avoiding the unnecessary. If not, however, the battle would be fought uphill. There was no cover that they could use to hide behind, and if all of them were armed with guns, there was no way around not getting hurt, for some of them, at least. They may be just yakuza, but there are some who are excellent marksmen.

There was the option of using their 'cargo' as bait and regrouping with a new plan, but according to Vladimir their numbers are superior by two to one at the very least. It was highly unlikely that everybody was going to take the bait.

 _"_ _At the speed they're going, ETA is five minutes and seventeen seconds. It seems like they have intention of making a turn anywhere."_ The way was shut. Stopping meant death. There was only one answer.

"Vladimir, how far are we from the first intersection?"

 _"_ _Five hundred and twenty five meters. Keeping the cars' speed into consideration, you, Christine and Ryuji should have no problem making it. Carrying the cargo and doing so would be a risky bet."_

"Fighting is a succession of risky bets in and of itself. Christine, call those two back."

Christine called back the duo covered in blood who had created a mound of at least a hundred dead bodies, and pulled Saya and Kota back up on their feet. "You heard what was going on. We'll be running for the next five hundred meters or so and try to circumvent the cars heading towards us."

"Five hun…? That's impossible!" Out of everyone, the introverted Kota was the least athletic person out of everyone here. As a non-sportsman, even a hundred meter dash has him heaving and sputtering for air, and he was being told to run five times that length.

"It's barely a tenth of my jogging course. If you can't, that's fine. You fall behind, you stay behind. Living is not for the weak." With those words, Vector broke off into a run, with Christine not far behind.

"Takagi, let's go." Taking Saya by her arm, he began running. He was tired of being the weakling, the whipping boy in the world before it fell apart. He will live, and he will change. He will choose when and where he will die, and to earn that right, all there was to do was take action."

"Come on, come on! Move those legs, private, or I'm gonna shove this blade in your ass! Hurry hurry hurry!" Feeling a slight prick at the back of his neck, Kota immediately picked up the pace, and Ryuji continued to keep the knife just a skin's breadth away, laughing as he ran right at his heels.

 _"_ _They're almost there, hurry."_ Vector picked up his running pace even more, continuing to control his breathing; in through the nose, out through the mouth. Raising his knees up to his stomach, he lunged out to take another step.

And there they were, it was within their sights. The white stripes of the crosswalk, road signs, traffic lights, and cars. The intersection. "Distance, 150. Our left, right?"

 _"_ _Da."_

Taking a quick look behind him to make sure everyone was there, Vector turned left. There was some distance, he spied about a dozen infected roaming the streets. "Here we go." Kota was wheezing erratically like he was having an asthma attack and Saya was panting as she sweated bullets, but without so much as a short break, Vector kept moving.

 _"_ _You have another minute before the convoy arrives. Hide yourselves."_ Each of them took a position out of sight, such as behind bushes, in cars, and under a blue tarp covering construction equipment. Vector took some things out of Christine's pack. _"Five, four, three, two, one, and they're on site. They're slowing down."_

They _were_ spotted, after all. Activating the cloaking device of his trusty coat, Vector circled around the yakuza members. Many of them were donning suits while others were shirtless, exposing their large tattoos as a way of intimidation.

In reconnaissance, there were five important pieces of information, forming the acronym SALUTE: the enemy's size, activity, location, unit, time before contact, and their equipment. None of them were even considering hiding at all, which made Vector's job easier.

Thirteen bogeys, currently searching, approximately twenty meters away, no recognizable unit, and a minute before contact. Their equipment consists of three cars, five guns, three rifles, two bladed weapons and three blunt weapons. Now he needed them to get well within the maximum effect range of the trap.

 _"_ _Now."_ Vector flung the object in his hand towards them. Several seconds later, a blinding flash and a loud bang echoed through the streets, mixing with screams, shouts of anger, and gunfire.

 _Gangsters are gangsters after all,_ Vector sighed with his ears covered. _Getting caught in such a basic ambush_. Without the proper equipment or mental preparation, nobody stood a chance against the 180 decibel sound bomb. Aiming his AUG, Vector immediately began picking off the first visible man with a firearm. There was no telling what panicked men with guns would do, especially when they are blind and deaf. No use in risking stray bullets.

 _"_ _Vector, I got two with guns."_ Christine reported through the earpiece

 _"_ _I got three. Two had guns."_ Ryuji snickered. Adding that to Vector's kill, they had already wiped out almost half. Undoing the cloaking, he dashed towards a yakuza member closest to him. Under bad vision, the man saw something black and gray come at him, but was unable to do anything about it. His ears were still ringing hard and he had a massive headache. He crumpled to the floor as he felt a cold blade plunge into his heart.

"You _motherfucker!_ " Another man, who recovered surprisingly quickly from the effects of the flashbang, began swinging his katana wildly as he charged towards Vector.

"Idiot." With three sharp pops, three holes materialized; two in the man's chest and one in the head. Before the man keeled over, Vector wrenched the sword from his dead hands. Keeping the blade up, he advanced slowly, cutting down anyone that attacked him in a single stroke. "Clear."

Ryuji and Christine each repeated the same, and the six reconvened again.

"Shot count. Three rifle, zero pistol."

"Three rifle, one pistol."

"Thirty rifle, two pistol."

Once they confirmed bullets left over, they began picking up the yakuzas' weapons. The guns were Makarovs and Tokarevs of poor quality no less, but the bullets were still usable for other purposes.

"Would you mind if I ask where you learned how to fight with a sword?" Saeko asked Vector.

"Why?"

"Your movements told me you are someone with expertise in Japanese martial arts."

"I am. My style is based on the Yagyū Shinkage-ryū mixed with two other styles. After I mastered it, I developed something through them that fits my needs. I have my own swords back at the safe house as well." Saeko felt dizzy for a few seconds. Mastery of even a single style of swordsmanship could take over a lifetime, and yet he mastered three. _Three._

While not absolute, Saeko was confident in her martial skills. Not only had she practiced with bamboo swords, but with wooden and real swords as well since she was young. In the kendo club, her peers, her father, relatives and friends continue to praise her over and over as a prodigy or even the second coming of Chiba Sanako herself.

Yet all of that was torn down in a sparring match with Ryuji. She finally understood. Their technique, honed and perfected in battlefields dwarfed hers by far. Being raised by family members with such skill, there was no reason that she could win. The mere thought would be presumptuous.

"Saeko, just so you know, don't ask him to teach you anything. Don't forget you're the weakest of the group."

"I am aware. I will do my best to perfect what I know as much as I can." She picked up a stray bullet and handed it to Ryuji.

"We've made a lot of noise, we'll have more company later. Let's move before they get here." Taking two of the cars the yakuza were using, they peeled out of the area.


	22. Ninja VS Samurai

They reached the Takagi estate just as the first drops of rain started to fall. The presence of Saya, the only daughter and heir to the Takagi family functioned as the most powerful "permit" for safe passage. Initially they were wary, but the Takagi's familiarity of Ryuji as Takashi Komuro factored into their swift and smooth entrance followed by a warm welcome.

The men under the command of the head of the Takagi family and Don of the right wing political association, Souichiro Takagi and his wife Yuriko were far superior than the yakuza they encountered in every facet. Their whole compound was more a military state than a compound. They were all dressed in military uniforms previously worn by soldiers of the former Japanese Imperial Army and they felt as if they had just time traveled back to World War II.

"I guess we made it safely." Saeko said with a small smile on her face. She was donning a kimono lent to her after a shower until her clothes dried.

"No, not yet." Ryuji shook his head in disagreement. Her flushed, slender neck peeking out of her ever-lustrous hair made his libido stir, but he tore his eyes off of her which was waiting for a compliment on her appearance, keeping himself in check. "Missions are only done when and only when we make it back safely unharmed. Right now we finally just made it halfway. The only reason we've been welcomed with open arms is because the Takagis and I know each other well and because they owe me big-time for delivering their daughter. That being said, we also have a proverbial bomb that will jeopardize the trust they have in me; several, in fact."

"Bomb?" Saeko frowned quizzically.

"To begin with, neither Christine or I are one hundred percent pure, thoroughbred Japanese. Luckily, I look more Asian despite being a hybrid and I can hide my blue eyes with these colored contact lenses, but she isn't so lucky in that regard. All it takes is a good, long look before she gets made. Needlessly rubbing them the wrong way with this sensitive information will fuck everything up."

"But Don Takagi is a man of honor. And like you said, they owe you for saving their only daughter. It would seem unbecoming of him to reject such people."

"While you may assume correctly, I don't like dealing with maybes if I can help it. I'm not ready to assume that fully without insurance, which is why I am going to cement the familiarity with the Don further."

"How?"

"That," Ryuji said as he turned, revealing a toothy grin, "is where you come in, Saeko. You come from an old Japanese family that's well-versed in Japanese martial arts. Since this organization is comprised of right wing ultranationalists, there is no way they won't show respect and admiration for such a pure, graceful lady raised in the land of the rising sun. We use that to our advantage. He will definitely want to speak to you. Personally. Just wait."

They sat in silence for about fifteen minutes until two men escorted them to a Japanese style guest room separated from the main building. Just as Ryuji had expected, Souichiro Takagi was sitting there on a cushion, with a rack holding a pair of swords and behind it a large calligraphy scroll hanging on the wall. His slightly tanned complexion and chiseled features had an imposing air about him, making him worthy of the title samurai. All that was needed was a page sitting next to him, and he would look like a daimyo. "I would like to personally give you my thanks for delivering my daughter safely."

The duo sitting across from him said nothing and bowed their heads.

"Sir, if I may. Why are we here?" Saeko asked.

"I was told that Master Busujima's daughter commands mastery of the sword no less than the great Sanako Chiba. I simply wished to have the pleasure of meeting such a lady. Officially." Saying this, Souichiro took the sword on his right side and placed it in front of Saeko. "What do you think of this sword?"

Saeko tentatively reached for the sword whose grip and scabbard were of a vermillion hue and lifted it up carefully with her sleeves covering her palms.

"It is alright, you may touch it. You will not taint the sword's power."

"Then by your leave." She gently took hold of the grip and revealed the blade. Once the weapon was fully out of its scabbard, Saeko let a small gasp escape, immediately realizing the make of the blade. "This is…an extremely rare specimen you have, sir."

"So you see it?" The corners of Souichiro's lips rose in joy as she proved herself to indeed be the kind of woman as the rumors said.

"A shallow curvature, a _kogarasu_ style make of the blade with a double edged tip. _Shouju Kanemasa._ This a Murata blade, is it not?"

"Excellent, as I thought. Indeed, this is a blade made during the mid-Meiji era by order of major general Murata known for the Murata rifle at the Tokyo Artillery Arsenal. It was said that this blade could split a pig's skull in half without even the slightest nick.

"Thank you for the opportunity to lay eyes on such a masterpiece." Gently putting the sword back in its scabbard, she was about to place it in front of Souichiro before he stopped her with a hand.

"That belongs to you now."

"I mean no disrespect sir, but I cannot accept such a thing without good reason."

"I have two. Firstly, as I have said before, for the safety of my daughter. Secondly, I have received instruction from Master Busujima in the past. I would like you to keep as a token of my gratitude and appreciation."

"The former reason aside, if that is the case, then this is something you should be giving to my father rather than me."

Upon hearing this, Souichiro slapped his knee as he laughed heartily. "Spoken like a true member of the Busujima family. You are not subtle."

"Forgive me for that."

"As you have probably guessed already, but I am giving you this because of my own foolish daughter."

"It is true that I have saved her life before, but both she and I are here, alive and well, because he took the lead." She shifted her gaze to Ryuji who had not said a word or uttered a sound since they arrived. He sat stock-still like a rock.

"Oh?" Souichiro's gaze followed Saeko's.

"Don Takagi, it has been a long time. I believe I was still in elementary school when I last saw you?"

"I believe so. Time certainly flies like an arrow. You have grown into a fine young man."

"Thank you for saying so, sir. I am glad to see you are alive and well."

"I knew you were no mere child when we first met, but now I see it clearly. You have….something that far exceeds anything I have ever seen in anyone your age."

"I am but a greenhorn compared to you, sir." Ryuji shook his head with a smile plastered to his face. "Now that we have gone through the formalities, I must apologize to you."

"For what?"

"As a youngling I was born and raised by the kindness of a family who took me in as their own, guided by them, learning to survive and fight for over a decade surrounded by gunfire and steel, and ended up here in Tokonosu. My true family name, and true given name is Ryuji Mikage. I would like to offer my humblest apologies for deceiving you and your family thus far." Straightening his back, Ryuji bowed his head until his forehead touched the tatami mat and kept it there until Souichiro broke the silence.

There was a tense pause, and the silence hanging in the air was thick and heavy as if the very air they were breathing had increased its density and viscosity. "Very well," Souichiro broke the silence, "I accept your apology, on one condition. You will have a bout with me using real weapons."

"Don Takagi, that is simply not—"

"If that is what it takes, then I will accept." Ryuji cut Saeko's protests off as he answered.

"Follow me." Taking the pair of swords on the rack, he followed Souichiro. Saeko scrambled after them with the Murata blade in hand. Once they reached the dojo, Ryuji removed the kevlar and firearms and stood in front of Souichiro who handed him the shorter wakizashi. "Are you ready?"

"As I will ever be." The very moment Ryuji drew his weapon, Souichiro's blade was already upon him. His eyes teeming with killing intent were as sharp as the weapon he wields. Taking two quick steps back, the blade harmlessly passed the tip of his nose. He dodged the following attacks with equal deftness.

Punching and kicking were out of the question, and blocking such strong strikes was bound to chip any blade, irrespective of its make. Twisting his body slightly to the right, Ryuji dodged another attack and suddenly stepped in. Having been released from the weight of his gear, his body was able to move twice as fast, if not more, which surprised even Ryuji. His agileness was a deadly combination paired with the short and more wieldy wakizashi, enough to make Souichiro himself sweat bullets.

Not only in swordsmanship but in any martial art, distance is one of the most important factors to be considered in order to win. If one cannot fight in a distance advantageous to them, the fight prolongs needlessly, depletes stamina and ultimately lead to defeat. Knowing this, Ryuji stepped further in without so much as flinching or blinking as a blade being swung at full force whistled past his face.

Souichiro had power, speed, and spirit.

Ryuji countered that with speed, consecutiveness of attacks, and his incredibly flexible flair for combat.

Every time their blades clashed, it seemed like sparks would fly with every slither of steel on steel. This was no longer a simple bout, it was a full on attempt of two men actually dedicating their every move into taking the other's life; and both of them were laughing. They were reveling in this high level, high stakes battle.

"Powerful. You are indeed powerful. While it is far from a traditional style, you are elusive as mist, yet fierce as a demon. I sense not an inkling of doubt, no hesitation."

"I'm enjoying myself here too, immensely, and now it's free game. Allow me to bring another blade into the mix." Drawing the knife strapped on his left thigh, Ryuji bent his knees, dipping into a lower stance.

"You _are_ an interesting one, through and through." Their blades crossed once again, with even greater strength and speed. The massive, undiluted fighting spirit and killing intent of the two men enveloped the dojo like high tides, making Saeko's hair stand on end in a mix of both awe and terror as the atmosphere itself was trying to crush her. Yet she could not take her eyes off of them.

Finally, Souichiro's strike knocked the wakizashi out of Ryuji's hand and his blade whistled through the air before stopping a hair's breadth away from his left side. "A tie." Ryuji nodded. If Souichiro had followed through with that strike, he would have been rend asunder, but he would have died as well. The knife point was hovering between the ribs, just above the heart. His other hand forming a _nukite_ stopped just short of the Adam's apple. "Taking me with you. Very bold."

"We all begin dying the moment we take our first breath. Death is but a walk in the park for me."

Pleased with the answer, Souichiro nodded several times. "Very well. As per our agreement and in consideration of your intrepidness, I will look over your deception of me and my family. Take the wakizashi with you as well; a prize for your prowess. You are welcome to stay until the rain stops."

"Thank you, sir." Leaving the two, Souichiro walked out of the dojo. Once sure that he was well out of earshot, Ryuji began cackling and howling with mad laughter as he clutched his stomach.

"Um….Ryuji?" The sudden change which she had never seen before made Saeko shift uncomfortably as she nervously called his name.

" _Ho-ly FUCKING SHIT! Oh my GOD, that was FUCKING AMAZING! Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?! FUCK, my juices are FLOWING RIGHT NOW! HOO-RAH!_ " Ryuji continued to laugh and frolic about like a child who had just gotten off his first ride on a rollercoaster withe the excitement yet to wear off. Once he had finished laughing, he picked up the wakizashi and placed it in its scabbard as he did with the knife. "Now then," he spoke reverting back to his usual casual but calm demeanor, "our insurance is in place, so let's go back to our rooms now, shall we?"


	23. Windows Of The Soul

"This rain isn't stopping," Christine growled as she glared at the rainclouds and the drops of water pitter-pattering as they struck the window panes of the guest room they were in and rolled down.

"Why hate the rain?" Vector asked as he sat cross legged with his back against the bed. "It camouflages any sound you make and it's a problem no sniper can solve with a bullet. Best time to take out sentries. It can also be a shower and doubles as drinking water after boiling it."

"Joking is unbecoming of you, Vector."

"They're merely observations made through experience." He said with a frown. "Plus, when it rains, it does so indiscriminately. Our eye in the sky will give us sitreps when necessary, so we won't have to make a sudden departure unless absolutely paramount that we do so. Ryuji should already have laid everything out." Standing up after his short meditation period, he stood up and began stretching.

"Are you not worried?"

"About what?" Vector arched his back as he fell backwards and raised his legs up while keeping them crossed. He then extended them, moved them in various directions before bringing them down to the floor, slowly.

"Michaela."

"Why?"

"I'm worried about Hector. Considering he's twice the size of anyone on the team if not more, and because of that he's prone to…..going more than the proverbial extra mile. I'm worried he would push himself too far while I'm absent. Michaela's told me that she worries about you because of your high tolerance."

"And you're worried our doctor in charge is straining herself by accumulating more efficient ways of treatment and other miscellaneous information? Foolish questions are unbecoming of _you,_ if you ask me." He then took a deep breath and lay flat on the bed with his side arm and knife in each hand.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you or are you not worried about her? It's a simple question with a simple answer."

Vector rolled over to look at Christine. "You honestly think I don't give a shit about any of you despite sticking together all these years?" His jaw was squared and his face was hardened, giving nothing away. "If you don't know my answer to that question, then you obviously don't know me enough." His eyes, however, betrayed him. Christine could see in the depths of those orbs was the tiniest slivers of worry and loneliness that Vector failed to hide. "Alright, enough stupid questions. I'm going to take a short nap, so don't wake me up unless we're under attack or I'll toss you out the window."

Christine chuckled silently as her brother-in-arms started snoring lightly after a minute or so. He may act like the strong and silent type, which he is, but he is just as delicate and sensitive. The only problem was his thoroughly clumsy attempts at showing that. His hate for humiliating himself did not help, but anyone in the team could see that his feelings for the team and for Michaela ran deep. This gave her some semblance of peace. Connecting her earpiece to the man pack radio, she maintained contact with Vladimir.

"What in tarnation was that bout? I demand an explanation." Saeko broke the silence once they returned to the quarters readied for them. Ryuji, however, was skimming through the Book of Genesis translated in Japanese which he randomly pulled out of the bookshelf without so much as flinching.

"As I said before: insurance."

"I know _that!_ " Ryuji's head jerked up from the book slightly in surprise and confusion. He had never heard her raise her voice aside from kendo practice. The calm, collected and wise appearance of Saeko Busujima was nowhere to be seen. What he did was simply select an option that allowed them to sustain their safety here and therefore sustain their lives. "I am well aware that it is far better to come clean with the lies before they are discovered as lies! But why would you deliberately put yourself in harm's way?! This is not like fighting the infected! What if you had—-"

"Saeko," Ryuji cut her off, placing a hand on her shoulder. He had a smile plastered on his face, one that grew wider as the childlike glimmer in his eyes disappeared like candles in a storm. "Calm the hell down." She felt the hand on her shoulder tighten into a vice-like grip. Before she could blink, Ryuji had flipped her over on her back with him straddling her. Both of her hands were pinned above her head and the point of his new short sword was pressed at her throat.

Trying to fight him off, Saeko squirmed only to have a knee planted firmly in her solar plexus, rendering her immobile. That was when she saw his dead eyes. They clearly displayed anger, but his dilated pupils were as cold as the nadir of the abyss itself. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? How _dare_ you question my abilities."

"Ah!" Saeko opened her mouth to speak, but there was no sound she could utter aside from a gasp of pain and fear upon meeting his gaze. She felt the strength and will to resist leave her. The blood in her veins even seemed to stagnate its movements as if the very aura of his wrath was sucking the life out of her.

"Why, you ask? To live, to fight and to protect my home, my family, and my life. That is all that matters to me. They could be the descendant of Mother Teresa herself, but if they make a move toward any of us, they die. When they die, I move on. I will give myself over to whatever madness in me that will give me what I need to protect them. That is what I do, that is who I am." Tightening his grip on the weapon, a bead of blood fell to the ground from Saeko's broken skin. "One more thing: it could be skydiving, murder or a sparring session with real weapons, but it's all mind over matter. If you think you can do it and get away with it, more often than not you do. Didn't take you too long to get a taste for putting the infected in their permanent place with that wooden sword of yours."

Saeko chewed on her quivering lower lip, fighting back tears. He hit the nail on the head. It was true. There was no hesitance of neutralizing something she could register as a clear threat through force. Doing so has brought her joy and ecstatic pleasure. In fact even now, somewhere in her mind, she wanted more.

"Right now, you live in a world where a wannabe with a blade can become a bonafide manslayer. All that's necessary is the resolve and constitution." Removing the blade and his knee, Ryuji lapped up the blood from her neck. "Don't ever question my raison d'être again. Ever."

"But….I was just…af-fraid….If anything had happened to y-you…." Saeko sobbed as she sat up trembling, finally free from his gaze which had induced crippling fear in her.

"I'm sorry. I scared you." Kneeling down, Ryuji reached out, but Saeko flinched, backing away until her back was against the wall. Even then, like a child who woke from a lucid nightmare, she curled up into a ball and squeezed her eyes shut tight in an attempt to shrink away into oblivion. He followed her, and caressed her soft pale cheeks glistening with tears, now uncontrollably streaming down her face.

"Please…d-don't. Don't hurt me…."

"I won't. I won't. I just…lost control. Nobody's gone through what we have and lived to celebrate it. They're the only family I know. I'm their son, their nephew, their brother-in-arms, and their living lucky charm. People acting like they know what they don't just…ticks me off. Especially if it involves them." Kissing her along those streaks, he lapped up her tears as well, soothing her with whispers. "It's not that I don't appreciate your concern. But I've been doing this since I was five years old with a gun and knife in hand against monsters shaped like people and people who are monsters at heart. So just…let me do my thing." Still feeling her trembling, he cradled her head and stroked her head, running his fingers through her silky locks of black hair, softly shushing her.

She responded with a small nod, and put her arms around Ryuji. "I understand. But you must understand as well that I….well…I need you as much as you need them." The heat of her blush reached an all-time high as she buried her face into his neck as the words left her mouth.

"This rain doesn't seem like it's going to let up any time soon, so I am going to take a nap if you don't mind. That fight actually took some outta me."

"Hector, how's the weather up there?"

 _"_ _Going on sunshine, ese. I can hear a chorus of fucking birds chirping a Disney musical dance number from here."_ Hector snarked back to Vladimir with an unpleasant snort. _"Jokes aside, things are not lookin' too well, I'm afraid. Our numbers are reduced to half, and I can't see too far because of this fucking terrible weather. We got more infected reacting to the rain. Firecracker won't do jack in this weather."_

"Your shift will be over soon. _Prochnost,_ my friend." Going through the various screens, Vladimir's fingers danced across the keyboards. Pinching the cigarette sitting in the ashtray in front of several system units of desktop computers and took a small drag. The smoke formed several small donuts before dissipating.

"Vladimir, take a break. It's time to switch." Karena called out.

"And so I shall." He stood up as he smothered the cigarette which already had at least a dozen stubs already. She then slipped into the seat he was in in front of all the screens. "Are you still worried? About Viper?"

"As much as I am reluctant to admit it, yes. I have watched him grow since he was a little boy, and he is a strong young man now. I guess it is true that there is no cure for a fool." And she hated herself for being such a worrywart soccer mom. Those days should be way behind her, and yet she keeps finding them just over her shoulder.

"A fool, yes, but only in the sense of being a doting parent. That is infinitely healthier than idiots who spoil their children rotten, if you want my honest opinion. And I am certain that Ryuji is grateful for it. Out of all of us, he is most….permissive and indulgent when it concerns you, and he definitely cares about you the most. You remember that job we had in southeast Asia when we had a mop-up operation with the local mob?"

Karena clouded her face with sorrow. That was the most basic—-and therefore the worst kind—-of mistake that she had made in her entire career as a woman of war. She had gone ahead too far and was ambushed after making chase too far. It ended up in her taking several bullets, cracked ribs and a minor concussion.

As they made their second attempt after thorough planning, they saw carnage; grisly, utter carnage. The mob was completely wiped out along with their families in a single night, butchered like animals in a slaughterhouse. Atop the mattress of corpses was a single boy sleeping with a glowing satisfactory smile on his face as if he had finally come up with the best mother's day gift to present.

"All those men taken down with nothing but blades…It was clear that he had pushed himself far beyond what he is used to, and despite the virus enhancing his regenerative capabilities, he still has scars. What is more, that wasn't the only time he went off like that." If Ryuji's smile could be compared to a light, his lividness was a bulb that had gone out. Any facial expression denoting the existence of emotion falls away like dead leaves, which always ended up with a string of bodies surrounding him. Then there was nothing that could stop him, and the only options were to let him work the anger out of his system, have the other men restrain him with everything they have, or have Karena snap him out of it.

"Proof of how much he loves you. He will not think of your affection as a burden. You should be more worried about how to make him deal with your death, should it happen, although I hope not until well into the future."

"I will not die. Not here. I will decide when, where and how. Go and get some rest already. I'll wake you up when it's time."

" _Da. Spasiba, kapitán._ "

"And stop smoking." She swiped the carton of cigarettes he was trying to sneak off with and dumped them in the trash can along with the stubs. "They're called coffin nails for a reason. Find an alternative, like gum."

"I'll think about it. Good night." Walking back to his room, Vladimir picked up the satellite phone on his table and called a number which connected almost immediately.

 _"_ _It's me."_ A young woman with a slightly husky voice answered.

"Ah, Ms. Minami. I have some good news. We have your flatmate secure, free of bites of course."

 _"_ _Shizuka's with you?….I see. Thank you sir."_ Rika answered matter-of-factly, but the small sigh did not escape Vladimir's ear.

"Oh, no need to thank me. It just…happened. I too must apologize for not bringing this news to you sooner. We had….some business that required immediate and undivided attention. And anyone with medical expertise is definitely beneficial to have around. We have others that know her well so there is no need to worry about conflict."

 _"_ _Is that all?"_

"Not quite. I need your current location, a sitrep, and what the BSAA are planning. Best to your knowledge will suffice. I will give you everything I have that I know about this incident."

 _"_ _Sure. You might wanna write this down._ "

After about ten minutes, he hung up the phone and read through the notes he took:

 _Rika_

 _Flew to Tokonosu Airport from the newly-established Far East branch of the BSAA, secured civilians_

 _Ordered to take out any infected and secure the airport_

 _Currently taking a break, waiting for the JMSDF to pick them up_

 _Weapons in the maisonette gun locker with ammo (collect ASAP)_

 _US President/BSAA_

 _Close cooperation between the other branches through information provided by the FOS_

 _Orders out to DSO to search and rescue members of the WHO and other high-profile researchers_

 _Those already rescued currently working on a vaccine through an obtained sample_

 _Miscellaneous_

 _Other branches have began search and rescue operations of renown biologists, virologists and other men and women of expertise_

 _United States used as temporary HQ_

Although no longer under Umbrella's employ, being in league with a BSAA agent would have severe repercussions for the latter, but this information was valuable enough to shoulder that risk.

"No need to worry about 'that' happening any time soon….but a faraday cage wouldn't hurt anyone." Lying down on the futon after checking for his gun underneath the pillow, he closed his eyes. Due to habits that have been ingrained over the long years of sticking to it made his sleep light and kept it that way for the longest time. However, the gradually weakening sound of rain soothed his ever-bristling nerves, falling deeper and deeper into the unconscious.

"So? What do you think? Amazing, no?"

"This is…..ridiculous! How can something like…like _this_ possibly exist?!" While indeed an airhead, Shizuka still is a doctor, albeit a hatchling of one. She had been going through Bertha's personal notebooks for a while now, and she only delved deeper. The content of them were about previously encountered BOWs and various data about the virus, all of which were crammed into bookcases along with other books. "I guess the military really does teach you some hardcore stuff, huh?"

"I actually went through the basic training manual when I first started. Learning about the virus wasn't hard thanks to Christine, and everything else I learned on the spot. Everything else….well, you'll have to own it before you can confidently say that you know what you're doing."

"I guess…"

"So _you_ need to get your shit together, _ja_? Now that you will be working with us, we'll need all hands whenever and wherever necessary. For today, finish up with everything that's on the table."

"Yes, ma'am!"


	24. The Power To Choose

Bad news: The final fall term of college is beginning and that means my pace will reaaaaaaally drop significantly. However, I will finish translating and posting all of the chapters up, so not to worry. After that, I'll try my hand at something else.

Thank you for the followers both old and new

Now all that's left is for you is to drop a review (or two)!

Enjoy, and happy writing!

* * *

A day had passed.

While the rain was subsiding, the discontent of the citizens who evacuated and guided to the Takagi estate was flaring up to a dangerous degree. The men organizing the evacuation center working under Soichiro were all well-built and always armed with some weapon.

In the eyes of the public, right wingers were no different than members of organized crime, seeing them as a band of those that were pariahs of society. They continued to bandy words demanding things that are within their rights as upstanding members of society in fear and disgust of them.

They could not be any more foolish or wrong.

To begin with, Soichiro's men have sworn loyalty under a man who makes decisions through no other standards but his and his alone. They are the furthest thing away from public servants like a police officer and they had no obligation to accept people into their home, but he did; roughly over a hundred men, women and children. Compared to the environment beyond the gates, they were in paradise.

Second, they believe that the "rights of the weak" are still in play. Women, juveniles and the elderly are those that are considered "weak" by society, sans a few exceptions, and because of that they are compensated by society in various forms, but this is a world where societal order has all but fallen apart. They can demand nothing.

"Heh, those fucking idiots." Ryuji snickered as he watched the rabble quibble for the umpteenth time. They might as well be arguing with the bank about a check that bounced. Their unsightly and pitiful doings spread his lips into a smile.

"It is inevitable. Nobody could have seen the end of the world as we new it was coming. Especially not like this. A world where people eat people, and the eaten eat more people…that was supposed to be something that existed in the world of movies and novels."

"Inevitable, huh. True, you can't cry over spilled milk but I can't just chalk it up like that." When the world ends, what do you do next? The answers and decisions is all within every person's control. The only way to live in a world that has changed is simple: one must undergo change themselves.

"And why is that?"

"Regardless of what happens to the world, people have the unquestionable ability and right to choose, as long as they draw breath. What do you want? How badly? What will it cost? What or who are you willing to sacrifice for it? The results are all based on choice." Ryuji pointed towards the crowd. He could not make out what exactly they were arguing about, he thought he saw a flash of pink pigtails, but they soon disappeared out of his sight. "Yet they don't bother to weigh their options, and ditched possible alternatives. They never even tried to adapt to the new world, rejected the path of evolving to survive and took the cowards way of relying only on others. As far as I'm concerned, they're worse than suicides."

Those who underestimate and reject the gravity of the situation will soon be weeded out through the law of the jungle. Therefore, their deaths are inevitable. Their lack of cooperation would only compromise any organization. In fact, their existence would only have meaning as bait. Or rather, simply eliminating every last one of them would be beneficial in the long run. If they die without causing any problems, this organization would greatly shave off the risk of falling apart from within. "I…see…."

"You sound like you have something you want to say."

"How exactly do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"I see it in how you fight, but it's about how you think. It's….I can only describe it as two polar opposite forces coexisting in a container, synchronized and heightened to its utmost degree."

Ryuji simply shrugged at the question with a smirk. "Well, if you wanna keep breathing whilst doing what we do, you gotta make that work. It'll come naturally, so give it time."

"That is your source of power, then."

"Correct. The combination of cold, calculative rationalization and the unpredictability of madness changes people, giving them strength that you wouldn't believe. It certainly isn't something those idiots below can handle, let alone comprehend. They'd off themselves because they won't be able to stomach their own decisions. Also, Saeko."

"Hm?"

"I just want you to know," he whispered in her ear placing a hand on her shoulder and gently squeezing, "you are different from those waste of space that call themselves human beings."

Saeko felt goosebumps all over her body like a virgin who had just heard a passionate confession of love for the first time in their life.

"I have a pretty good intuition, and I'm willing to bet that you have silver-dollar potential as one of us. And I need you to ascertain that I'm right, 'kay?" He lightly lapped up the bite mark on her neck to remind her. "Rain's letting up. Get your stuff ready." Leaving Saeko in the room Ryuji stepped out into the hallway and noticed Vector standing near the doorway leaning against the wall. He had overheard the conversation, and his eyes were inquisitive of Ryuji's intentions.

"Her, one of us? Even if that's true, that is something that will happen way in the future. Have you considered what would happen if her impatience gets the better of her?"

"Then that's as far as she goes." Ryuji retorted without so much as batting an eye. "Sure, it'll be a disappointment but there's no real damage. Call it a personal interest of how far she gets, how strong she gets, how long she maintains the strength, and how beautiful of a woman she turns into as she closes the gap between us as soldiers. I might even start keeping a journal."

Vector loosened a small snort at Ryuji's words. "Do what you will. Are you ready to leave?" Vector was tapping his toes against the floor in an erratic pace. He wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"I am. Saeko should be within the minute. Have you heard back from Karena or Vladimir?"

"Yes. They've already started, but they need all hands for setting up EMP countermeasures like faraday cages ASAP. We do have spare electronics and generators, but they prefer not to use them. Too much of a pain in the ass to set up. Plus, we'd be fucked if the computers short-circuit while copying data."

"Not that I mind, but can't Vladimir rewrite the launch protocols and codes for nukes easily? If not he could at least hack the MSDF's missiles and shoot them out of the sky."

"The US president is still alive so the BSAA does have opinions to voice in various governments overseas. The chance of America's Doomsday order 666D is close to nothing, but there will be idiots trying to destroy still functioning countries with ICBMs pointed at them as a 'duty to the nation'. I will guarantee that." Nukes are not _just_ bombs that level and flattens city blocks; they destroy infrastructure with the leading method being EMPs. The sophistication of technology meant high dependency in order to efficiently get on in life. EMPs destroy any and all electronics that have an integrated circuit in it. Being an island nation, if such a weapon were to be fired on the mainland, the entire country would be sent back into the stone age. "But I can imagine either Vladimir or Hector jerry-rigging something to make everything work. They always do."

"Hey, what about me? I did work part time as a mechanic and a programmer, you know?"

"You're not reliable enough if the DOD almost got a lock on you."

"That was _ages_ ago! The statute of limitations for that should've run out by now. Plus, that wasn't _entirely_ my fault. Another noob fucked up and I got caught up in the blunder. I still did manage to pull security schematics of Langley though. _Without_ being detected."

"I have no recollection of the event in question."

"Oh, fuck you man!" Ryuji struck him with a jab in annoyance. "I'll put the stuff in the car. Ring the earpiece when you come down. I'm driving." With that he left in a huff.

"You have a strange way of showing affection to him, you know that right? Did HUNK's teachings rub off on you?"

"Leave him out of this. Let's go if you're ready." Just as the words left his mouth, Saeko stepped out from the room with a small bag on her back, an M37 and the new sword she was given.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

Vector said nothing as he quickly walked down to the first floor and tapped the earpiece. Outside the building, Souichiro, Yuriko and their subordinates were standing next to the car. Ryuji bowed deeply as he slipped back into the driver seat.

"Don Takagi, thank you for everything. I wish you all luck."

"And to you as well, young lady. Give my regards to your father when you see him again."

Vector and Christine remained silent and gave them a small bow as they got in. Nobody spoke a word until they had passed the iron gates and the many concrete barriers set in place. "Ryuji, I'm thinking of have a drink with everyone once we get back. Anything particular on your mind?" The one to break the silence, surprisingly, was Chrsitine, one of the most taciturn team members only second to Vector.

"Mojito."

"No can do. We have lime wedges, but there's not enough for juice. We don't have sprigs of mint either. As for rum, hopefully it's not gone yet."

"Son of a bitch!" Ryuji smacked the top of the steering wheel with his fist. "God, I am so going to make Hector go for a run to get good booze, I swear. Fine, I'll have a screwdriver. It's the easiest thing in the world to make. You?"

"El Diablo." She answered without missing a beat.

"Holy shit. I can understand if it's a Bloody Mary, but you're going for _that_?" Christine never could really hold her liquor compared to her teammates, but after ending up together with Hector, she eventually became strong enough to drink the hulking man under the table.

"It's ginger ale and lemon juice, it goes down easily." She shrugged.

"But even so. I draw the line at gin and vodka. I like sweet things. Your turn, Vector."

"Hm….Vodka martini, stirred. No olives."

"My god," Ryuji rolled his eyes and cried out in an overdramatic fashion upon hearing the answer, "what have you got against James Bond, man? You are shitting all over his favorite drink."

"I never said I don't like shaken gin martinis. Or olives." he replied flatly. "I just prefer vodka more than gin."

"Ahem," a finger poked at Ryuji's shoulder from behind. It was Saeko, who had her cheeks slightly puffed up, obviously dissatisfied about the fact that she cannot join the conversation due to her lack of knowledge in alcohol.

"Oh, right. Sorry. But Saeko, you've never been to a bar or had a proper drink before aside from the medicinal stuff during New Years, have you?"

"Then I'll have what you're having."

"I wouldn't advise that." Vector interjected. "He has about three years of drinking under his belt, and many of the drinks that he likes are known for being lady-killers. You wouldn't be able to walk straight if you were in the narrowest of alleys."

"Oh, come on, Vector. Stop being such a party-pooper. We'll start with something weak, like Kahlua milk or a garibaldi. Plus I can always change the ratio of alcohol and juice. _And_ , I'm in charge of taking care of her. If she gets slammed, which is more than likely, I'll take care of it."

 _"_ _I'm hearing names of cocktails, are you planning on having drinks?"_ Vladimir's voice crackled over the man pack radio's hand mic.

"We're talking about the possibility of celebrating a job well done with a cadet on board. And it's only one drink. One."

 _"_ _I have no problem with that, and frankly I'm getting sick of drinking vodka unmixed."_

"How's the faraday cage construction going?"

 _"_ _Smooth. Our backup electronics were already in a locker and I set the cage around that. I took the liberty of leaving everyone else's laptops and cellphones in there as well and the generators and breaker is covered as well. All that's left is the cars, the satellite dish on the roof and the computers connected to the cameras watching the perimeter of our compound. It should be…..oh, ninety percent done by the time you get back."_

"All that without our help? Color me impressed. Sorry to have you do all the work there."

 _"_ _No worries. You made the right choice. Walking is just as bad as driving in this weather with the infected all over the city. Left turn, three hundred meters."_

The company left the Takagi estate a little past noon after the rain had stopped and the ground was relatively dry. They estimated that they would be back by 6:00 p.m. at the latest, taking possibilities of circumvention into account.

"Vector, Christine, I'd like to make a detour if you don't mind?"

"Depends what for."

"Showing Saeko how to shoot and how much she can last on her own." Aside from the phrasing, the reason was legitimate. Learning how to properly and safely operate a firearm was now a matter of life and death, especially in Japan where gun laws are extremely strict. The last skirmish Saeko was in took place a few days ago, and the only time that she even touched it was when she placed it in the holster. Although she is well-versed in martial arts, that can only get her so far.

"Fine. Vladimir, is there a small pack of infected anywhere in the vicinity?"

 _"_ _Shortest route is the second street corner and take a left. Fifty meters ahead and you'll see a park with a fountain. There's at least thirty."_

"Much appreciated."

 _"_ _You're welcome,_ tovarishch. _An internship right after the interview, hm? Well, try not to get her killed._ " They stopped near the park leaving Christine and Vector to stand guard while Ryuji led Saeko to the center.

"Now, I taught you how to operate this before we left the safe house, so here's your first test. Load the gun, ready stance, and reload. Do it as fast as you can, but don't compromise form." Gripping the gun, Saeko pulled the M37 out. Her muscle memory was excellent, and aside from fumbling with the bullets in her pockets, her overall time was better than most amateurs Ryuji had ever seen. The hammer was cocked, her left hand was placed at the butt of the grip, keeping it steady. Aside from minor shifts, there really was not anything wrong. Even her trigger discipline was good. "Alright, that's a start. Now all you have to do is make every shot count."

"I am a novice. You do remember that, right?"

"Mhmmm. Now, when you aim, take a deep breath and hold it for no longer than ten seconds. When you target lines up with the two sights in the front and back, pull the trigger. For now have the hammer cocked every time. It makes it easier to shoot. This is known as single action." Drawing his P-14, Ryuji demonstrated as he unloaded the gun, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger. With a click, the hammer fell on the empty chamber. Saeko followed quickly by unloading the gun and practicing with the empty revolver. "This makes it easier to shoot, but there's a slight time-loss because you have to do that every time, but you get used to it eventually. Plus that's a small caliber pistol. Guess what double action is."

Saeko let loose a small snort as she pulled the trigger again, and the hammer fell again with a click. "I'm no prodigy, but I will have you know I do possess the power of deduction." She threw a rebuking look at him.

"I'm not trying to be patronizing, if that's what you're implying. I just need you to know everything necessary before you start with live rounds. Aaaand we've got company from all the clicky-clacky. I'll fire three, then you do the same." Loading the gun quickly, he then screwed on the silencer. Three muffled shots of 45 caliber rounds rang out with a sharp puff, and the same number of bodies hit the ground almost rhythmically.

While that was only half his usual speed, to Saeko his marksmanship was too advanced to use as reference. All she could do was ruminate over what she had just learned and practice just like she did with a sword. But while she was lining up her shot, Ryuji's hand stopped her hand, jamming a finger in between the hammer and firing pin. "What?"

"Wait a little bit. Draw them in. That thing has a stubby barrel, and they are over ten meters away. Even for a novice that's a challenge. Maybe you could get the torso, but we need a headshot. Wait until they're at least five to six meters away."

And so Saeko waited, steadying her breathing. Her hands were getting slippery with sweat. The small snub-nosed revolver felt as if its weight had suddenly doubled. She sighed to herself quietly. This is just like the time she held a real sword for the first time. The weapon felt heavier than she had imagined, and the blade caught the light in a way that no diamond or any other jewel in the world ever could. Time and time again she caught herself staring at the blade in a trance, which worried her father at first. Now she could wield it as if it were a part of her.

But this weapon, built solely for the purpose of killing those from afar, had a different weight from a sword. If the sword were a brush with ink, the gun was a stamp. A rugged, unrefined stamp made from a craggy rock. She cocked he hammer and steadied her still trembling hands. "Now?"

"Go right ahead. And make sure one of the three is shot in double action." Ryuji stood back several meters sitting on a bench and was drinking a can of ginger ale. Behind him was roughly half a dozen corpses of the infected piled on top of each other.

The tension in Saeko's finger increased, pulling the trigger back all the way. A dry crack echoed across the park. The slight tremble had an effect on the trajectory, more than she had imagined. The first bullet missed its mark and only grazed another's cheek and jaw hinge. "Damn it."

"You're still shaking. I told you to breathe." Saeko winced as her ears began ringing, distorting and muffling Ryuji's rebuke. The smell of gunpowder made her scrunch her face up. She tried again, this time without cocking the hammer back. Again, the tremble in her hands made her miss, and the bullet whizzed passed the horde and chipped a section of the fountain. "Stop wasting bulleeeeets." Ryuji's singsongy voice heckled from behind.

Saeko tightened the grip on the gun even further in an effort to stop the tremble, and proceeded to take several deep breaths to steady herself. She stopped for a moment in her thoughts, and closed her eyes. In less than half a minute, the tremble disappeared as if it was never there. The third .38 special finally found its mark, tearing through an infected old man's eye socket, effectively leaving severe damage to the brain.

"Hmm. One out of three's a start, I guess. Moving on to endurance. Leave your sword on the bench." She did as she was told, and was handed a knife in exchange.

"Are you asking me to….?"

"Yep. Take down….well, let's go with a dozen to start. If you think you can keep going, do so. If you don't or if I tell you to pull back, do so. I'm leaving the revolver with you as a bonus." The challenge was practical. A sword is effective but not the best choice inside buildings with low ceilings or narrow corridors.

The knife was similar to something she had seen in a war movie, attached to the end of a rifle as a bayonet. Holding it like she would a sword sans the non-dominant hand, she walked straight towards the horde. Slapping aside the clammy hands caked with dried blood and decaying flesh, she jammed the blade through the jaw and pierced the brain of one infected. She kept going, parrying hands and aiming for the soft spots such as the eye sockets, the hollow of the nape, through the nose and the temples.

 _"_ _How goes the test?"_ Vector's voice asked through Ryuji's earpiece.

"Eh. We need to work on her marksmanship. She's not a novice in combat, but she isn't on our level. Not even close. More than a student, less than a master. Really awkward level of skill, if you ask me. She's okay with a knife, but still rough around the edges."

 _"_ _That's the harm of being used to handling one kind of weapon. Any plans for her?"_

"Well, after a shower, maybe—-"

 _"_ _He means her training regimen."_ Christine cut him off with an exasperated sigh. _"What you do with anyone between the sheets is your business unless you're marrying them, so keep it that way. Idiot."_

"Oh. Got it. Right. I'm thinking focusing on the lower body. Everything above that is pretty good thanks to all the practice swings at the dojo and the kendo club. Only there's something missing. Can't exactly put my finger on it. Aaaand goodness gracious me, she's done with all of them. Alright, Saeko, time to go!" Taking the sword, Ryuji jogged towards the car and Saeko followed behind, drenched in blood. As soon as they got in, Vector floored the accelerator before the doors closed completely.

"So? What's your first impression of shooting a gun?"

"It was heavy in a different way compared to a sword. I do believe it will take some time to get used to."

"You don't have that kind of luxury." Vector flatly replied, taking Saeko's comments as a complaint without taking his eyes off the road. "I won't ask you to strip and reassemble an assault rifle blindfolded in under a minute. That would be asking too much. But you at least need to be able to hit five targets with a two centimeter radius five meters away in under ten seconds. And you need to learn how to operate a semi automatic pistol as well."

Ryuji whistled at the tall order Vector gave, too tall for a novice. A target with a radius of two centimeters was roughly the size of a one-yen coin. "Whoa, Vector. That's a little much, isn't it? That's what you need to do to get into the Security Police division of Japan's MPD."

"And you're the one that needs to bring her up to that level ASAP."

"How much time do I have?"

"All the time you need. But until you can operate a gun as proficient as necessary, I'll hold onto the sword. You can stick with the knife." Saeko's mouth opened in an attempt to protest. The sword was a gift, and no ordinary gift at that. A sword was considered the soul of the samurai, and Saeko believes it as such, considering it was given to her by a man who embodies the way of the samurai in the modern era. But before she could utter another syllable, Vector slammed down on the brakes, flinging Saeko forward. The seatbelt caught her from flying out the window face first, but she felt a gloved hand close around her throat with a punch dagger a hair's breadth away from her eye. There was no way she could resist. Although Vector was over forty, his hand choked her with a vice like grip, cutting off the oxygen. "Shut up. If you truly wish to be one of us, and be recognized as such by everyone, you will not say no, you will not decline, and you will not whine. You will not remain weak, you will not grandstand, and you will not hesitate."

If Saeko were a girl that ended up in Delta Team under similar circumstances to Ryuji, Vector would have said nothing, but she was not. Her life was as light and insignificant as a grain of sand compared to the bond that she felt with Ryuji. The Wolfpack were men and women that have survived a war together that no ordinary soldier could come out on top in one piece, both physically and mentally. Their loyalty to each other were forged through experience, blood, pain, and the menagerie of B. trying to kill them in the most grisly ways possible.

"And of course, you will not die without permission. Ryuji seems to have taken a liking to you. Your choices are to hone your skills until you're on par with us, or leave. There is no third option aside from ending your life. I don't care what you choose." Vector's grip tightened, and Saeko's face was turning sheet-white as the blood circulation to the brain was being cut off as well. Her attempts at breaking free were getting weaker, leaving her less than thirty seconds before she passed out. "See? You can't even break out of me choking you with my off hand. Right now, you are exactly what you expressed yourself to be: a sacrifice." With that, he released her and went back to driving as Saeko heaved to breathe normally again.


	25. Not One OF Us

**Whew!** I am terribly sorry, dear readers and writers for the hiatus, but now that fall term finals are done and over with, I can finally get on with this! I hope I have not lost your loyalty as readers.

* * *

Unlike when they were heading to the Takagi estate, there were no obstacles, keeping their ETA within the estimate. The four remained silent throughout the entire ride, but the atmosphere around Saeko was the heaviest and gloomiest by far.

At the front door, the five that stayed behind welcomed them, with a tray and seven cocktail glasses at the ready. " _Bienvenue, mon fils._ " Karena embraced the boy who was now half a head taller than her, and gave him a light peck on his cheek.

" _Je suis rentre, mère._ " Ryuji wrapped her arms around her and returned the peck as well.

"Nice to see you all in one piece. To the wolves."

"To the wolves!" Everyone echoed, and after a clink of glasses and a chorus of short howling, they downed their drinks.

"Now then," Vladimir clapped his hands together sucking on a cube of ice, "I'll be making seconds if anyone is interested. If you are, follow me."

"Once you're done, get back to work. I'll be posting up on the roof. And Vladimir, I don't mind you being our local bartender, but keep the proof low and drink at least two glasses of water when you finish." With that, Karena quickly made her way up the stairs and disappeared, while Specter and the rest of the adults went to the kitchen for a second drink, leaving Ryuji and Saeko alone.

Silence fell for the longest time until Saeko broke it with a trembling whisper. "Is it really impossible? For me to be accepted?" Although she had her head down with her hair covering her eyes, Ryuji could tell that she was on the verge of crying, but kept his back turned to her.

"With your current stats? Yes. And Vector is known for his obstinance, but not to worry. I'm here to change that. Follow me." Taking the stairs that Karena did, they descended, revealing a room far too spacious to be called a basement. In the far corners were gym equipment such as treadmills weights and punching bags. The right wall had a large workbench, every kind of tool, firearm and blade imaginable alongside crates of ammunition, explosives, spare gear, extra food, and water. Next to that were industrial size refrigerators, freezers and generators, all covered by faraday cages. The opposite wall had three heavily customized cars and two motorcycles parked next to each other. Straight ahead was a slope connected to the streets at ground level with heavy metal shutters. In the center of all of this was a makeshift "ring" indicated by ten meters of red tape in a square.

"Oh my god," Saeko whispered in awe, "how exactly did you set this place up? This is basically a trillion dollar fortress!"

"Only over a billion, actually thanks to a discount. Long story that involves front companies of both the yakuza and the Bratva among other channels of the criminal world we have access to."

"Bratva?"

"Russian mob. _Very_ scary people, but fiercely loyal. One of the greatest party people in Europe. Our resident tech-wizard and sniper Vladimir was an active member, but now both he and I are honorary members. Apparently taking a bullet for the higher echelons and their family and then killing those responsible for it in front of them with your bare hands does wonders. They ask us to do some things from time to time and we do the same for a price. This compound is part of the deal."

Saeko began rubbing her temples. The nonchalance of Ryuji's exploits were beginning to give her a headache. "What exactly _did_ you do? The favor could not have been a simple errand."

"Obviously you've never heard the phrase enlightenment can drive you mad. You do _not_ wanna know. Shit, I'm digressing. Go to that crate over there, put the same gear that I have on and step inside the ring."

Fitting a plate carrier, chest rig and leg holster on herself, Saeko realized just how heavy it was. The usual lightness in her step was now gone.

"A lot heavier than kendo gear, right? Now then." Removing one of his knives from the sheath, Ryuji tossed it at her feet. "You need to try and kill me."

"Um….excuse me?" Saeko stared at the other knife in the boy's hand. The blade length was at least another ten centimeters greater than the one she was given, and the point was aimed directly at her.

"We're starting your training right now, and rest assured, you will have to work as if your life depended on it. Now I won't kill you, but a word of caution: I will take shots at your face but with open palms only. Anything and everything else including biting and groin attacks is fair game." As soon as he finished, Ryuji lunged at her with a left palm strike which she parried, but with her usual speed gone, she could not react to the spinning elbow strike in time, sending her stumbling forward. "So that means bruises, cuts, sores and concussions. But if you want to minimize it as much as possible, keep your guard up, keep your blade up, and pay attention."

But it was impossible. Ryuji's attacks seemed to come out of nowhere, strike places she would never think of. Like a magician's sleight of hand, the knife kept disappearing and appearing in and out of his hands, and even between his teeth. The gear, or rather, the weights slowing her down made things difficult, leaving flesh-deep cuts all over her body, with welts and bruises forming under her clothes. The digital clock on the wall indicated that not even a quarter of an hour had passed.

"Get up." Ryuji prodded Saeko with his toe who was on the ground after being tossed a few meters away from a _tomoe-nage._ She was gasping for breath, the knife now out of her grasp. "Get up!"

"I….can barely…stand…." Saeko struggled to keep her hands up, but her legs were shaking like a newborn doe.

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Ryuji muttered before rushing at her and with a sent her sprawling again with a single front kick to the diaphragm. "The undead are the least of your problems. What's more threatening is the living, simply because they have a functioning brain and are capable of thinking on one level or another. You think they're going to _wait_ for you because they're feminists and you're fucking _tired_? Fuck no! They'll force themselves on you, rape your brains out and do god knows what else!"

Before Saeko could make a retort, she regurgitated a stream of stomach fluids on the mat and began coughing and sputtering. Ryuji put a canteen of cold water and a towel beside her.

"Never mind, we'll take five."

* * *

"How did I beat you?" Ryuji asked as Saeko guzzled half a quart of water from the canteen.

"You're too….fast, too strong. You're superior in every way in fighting."

"No, it's because you're a liar."

"What?"

"I said, you're a liar. What pisses me off the most is that you're lying to _yourself_. Not to me or anyone else; your own damn self. I know that you know there's a part of you that relishes the thrill of combat, the rush of life, the…pulse, for lack of a better word, that grows stronger with every passing minute of fighting. I've seen it when we first met. That look in your eyes…..I could tell you were luring him in. You were going to beat him within an inch of his life, if not kill."

Saeko was thunderstruck. He was reading her like open pages of a diary. It was true. When she was first accosted by the man, she _let_ him continue as he pushed her into the dark alley out of the public eye. She was relishing the moment of what he would look like, what he would sound like with every strike landing on him as he squealed and howled in pain as his bones shattered.

"You seem surprised, but this is nothing. Reading people is one of the basic things that I learned over the years as a freelance mercenary strike force. I do assassinations, espionage, security and sabotage. The same goes for your moves. It has fighting spirit in it, but that's it. There's no killing intent because you held yourself back."

"I did no such thing!" Saeko shouted, now clearly offended at his words.

"Listen to me. Every martial art and every weapon used in the art ever created to this day was made for one purpose: to kill. Kendo is just one of the many examples. Militaries around the world use martial arts to train their soldiers so they can incapacitate and kill efficiently. You're a practitioner, and yet you deny its purpose, what it's meant to be used for. That is why you lost."

"What is wrong with fearing to take a person's life? You can't just ask me to make such a choice!"

Ryuji was getting very close to just decking her across the jaw with a left hook. Never in his life did he ever want to punch an unarmed woman in the face, until now. But he had to remain patient. "In a world like this, there are three kinds of people that die first: the naive, the good samaritans and the morbidly obese. Those words belong to the naive. Besides, would you _really_ be worried about _your attacker's_ wellbeing when he is about to end your life?"

Saeko bit down on her lower lip, mind racing furiously to think of a counterpoint.

"Didn't think so. So, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear your last statement." But before she could organize her thoughts completely, Ryuji, who was already back in the middle of the ring, tossed the knife that Saeko lost at her feet. "This is round two. As the great Morpheus said: You have to let it all go." Ryuji spread his legs and arms, leaving every opening imaginable unguarded and exposed. "Fear, doubt, and disbelief. Free your mind."

Picking up the knife, Saeko slowly walked back into the ring. Learning from the beatings, she had changed her strategy: quick, compact swings to overwhelm and constant motion to avoid giving away the next attack, with her feet always on the ground.

"Okay," Ryuji chuckled, " _now_ we're getting somewhere." Swaying his body left and right as he dodged her attacks, adding rolls and flips to it as if he were dancing. As he set his eyes back on Saeko after a backflip, he saw the knife coming at him in a downward stab. The tip was about ten centimeters away from Ryuji's face, but he made no attempt to dodge.

"Hngh…" Saeko grunted as the knife hand slightly jerked back.

"And back to square one." Grabbing that hand by the wrist, Ryuji pulled Saeko into a clinch, ramming knee kicks into her sides. He finished with a roundhouse kick, following through all the way. The force knocked her off her feet again and outside the ring. His shin Saeko took felt like a wooden sword with a steel core in it and vomited up the water she drank despite the gear cushioning the blow to some degree. "Okay….half an hour. Oh and just FYI: I take no pleasure in committing physical violence against women, so I hope you don't take it personally."

Saeko was half passed out, her consciousness fading in and out like waves on a beach. Her entire body was numb from fatigue and pain. Her clothes and the gear she had on was cold and soaked with sweat, robbing what little energy she had left. Almost every inch of her body was covered in bruises and small scabs, her locks of raven-black hair now loose and unkempt.

"Good for a novice, but not ready yet. Don't you think you went a _little_ overboard with her?" Michaela was standing at the foot of the stairs with a medical kit, an ice pack, a clean towel and a glass of orange juice.

"I didn't wanna kill her so I did hold back. But I will keep using your Spartan carrot-and-stick policy. Oh, and how's our new nurse doing? Is she….well, useful?"

"Hey, she is undeniably a ditz, but you seem to forget that she is both Christine's student and mine. Of course she's competent. I did have a…little bit of fun with her, so she's sleeping now." The tip of her tongue glazing her lips in a meaningful way, Ryuji sighed.

"My god, why is it that Vector fell for a freaky woman like you? I can already imagine him crying."

"Oh, give it a rest. His face is like a stone wall. I doubt I'd see him cry unless I die or something. Besides, he knows about my….escapades from time to time. Here." She handed him the glass, which Ryuji downed in several large gulps. The tangy sweetness of the orange juice was followed by a slight tingle of the tongue.

"Did you….wait, this is a fucking screwdriver!"

"There's only half a shot worth of vodka in there. I'll take care of her so you go take a shower. You stink."

"Oh, since when did man-stench bother you? You fuck Vector in every which way after a workout at least once a week."

"Shut up and go clean yourself up." Michaela snorted as she smacked his bottom. "And bring that glass back to the kitchen."

" 'Kaaaay, love you too." With light steps, Ryuji hopped up the stairs. Despite Vector's harsh words, Saeko does show some promise. Even after that last kick, the knife remained tightly in her grasp. She probably will stay unconscious for a while but he'll spoil her rotten on the bed again. He had to think of a sweet, light cocktail for her as well.


	26. The Family Routine

Saeko's eyes opened at the sound of hearty laughter and the pain of sore muscles shooting up her body. She was sleeping in Ryuji's room, in his bed. Her body was bandaged up with poultices applied on badly bruised areas. The clock on his wall was pointing close to 9:00 a.m. "Dammit," she sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair. It was unbelievable how much a near-actual battle took out of her.

Waking up slowly, she noticed a tray on the bedside table with a meal of a small bowl of rice, miso soup, dried sardines, pickled vegetables and a tall glass of barley tea. Her stomach growled at the sight of it, considering she only ate a light breakfast yesterday at the Takagi estate and nothing else. Changing from the powder blue pajamas into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, she began eating. Although it was tepid, it did nothing to mar the flavor. Her eating pace accelerated and she was done before she knew it.

She then stuck her head out the door to see what the laughing was all about. The voice belonged to a rather large man.

"Hector, quiet." Karena shushed him with a stern frown. "We may have soundproof glass, walls and curtains, but there is a limit to how much sound it can contain."

"But I mean, come on! Look at this shit! Who the fuck even _thinks_ like this anymore? God, this makes southern hate-groups look like a bunch of choir boys!" He was soon silenced with a kick to his side.

"Shut. Up." Hector was massaging the point of impact but still continued to laugh albeit more quietly. She then smacked Ryuji upside the head with a rolled up magazine who was guffawing right next to him. "Turn it off. It reminds me of the demo that happened on the bridge a few days ago. They're nothing short of a cult at this point"

"I can understand that. But they aren't exactly off the mark. The virus strain that created B.O.W.s _was_ made overseas by two Brit aristocrats and an American. What I want to know most though is where they found the time and resources to make all those signs and fliers."

Religion was not exactly something that any of the seven adhered to. Most of them were agnostic, atheist or something in between. Plus, cults were organizations that they toppled to keep their pockets full.

Salvation through prayer and entering heaven through good deeds were nothing but pipe dreams. To them, it was the coward's way out, begging for help before they even try to save themselves from an almighty being who claims to love humankind yet allows them to slaughter each other with rules. People have killed and died for gods, for prayers. There were only four things the Wolfpack believe in: their skills, experiences, intuition (especially Ryuji's), and each other. That was more than enough to survive everything life has put them through.

"True. But now things are going to get a bit boring. We've finished up with the faraday cages, we have food and water aplenty. All that's left is training and taking shifts in watching the perimeter." Ryuji stood up and arched his back, stretching like a feline and noticed Saeko poking her head through the doorway. "Hey, look who's up."

"Good morning…and I'm sorry for yesterday."

Karena waved her hand dismissively. "No worries. Vector and Ryuji set the bar high to begin with. You've turned her into a rag doll, for crying out loud!"

"Oh, give it a rest, mom. Michaela already gave me an earful about that yesterday."

"Speaking of which, where is she right now?" Vladimir asked as he finished replacing the wick and flint to his lighter. "She isn't still asleep, is she?"

"Speaking of which, I haven't seen Vector either." Ryuji downed the contents of his coffee mug and finished, "Strange."

"The man's internal clock is like an old man's and he wakes up way too early for his health. Wait, but if Michaela isn't here, then….huh. Guess they went through an emergency treatment or something." Hector said with a knowing grin as he raised his eyebrows several times.

Karena's foot jammed into his side once again. "It's too early for your innuendos. And even if that were the case, either Vector or Michaela would say so beforehand. He doesn't have a laissez-faire attitude when it comes to punctuality."

"What about Vector and me?" Michaela's voice piped up from below as she and Vector emerged from the stairs, both wearing black tank tops and sweatpants. They were both breathing harder than usual and were dripping with sweat.

"Since when were you two awake?"

"Since 0300. I woke Michaela up an hour after. We had several rounds of sparring until now. We already ate, so don't mind us."

Saeko's drowsiness was blown away by his words. While she is unaware of what consists of their training, but the amount of sweat pouring from their body was enough proof that it was several times more than what she was put through yesterday. Yet they do not seem to show signs of obvious fatigue, and they were at least twice her age.

"Now then," Karena clapped her hands together as she moved in front of the TV to gather everyone's attention. "Michaela, go wake Christine and your student up and check on our stock of medical supplies."

" _Jahwol."_

"Hector, check the faraday cages and everything inside it. Make sure they all work. Also make sure the weapons used on our last excursion is functional."

"Roger that."

"Vladimir, post up on the roof with me."

"Knew that was coming."

"Vector, make rounds on ground level. If any infected get too close to the gate, take them down. Quietly."

"Of course."

Giving off orders, everyone began moving as soon as Karena clapped her hands again. "We need to go this way, c'mon." Taking Saeko by the hand, Ryuji brought her upstairs to the third floor, which was one, giant room with all the walls removed. A quarter of this spacious floor was filled with every form of electronics imaginable, including game consoles. All of them were covered with faraday cages like a sanatorium for electronics.

There was also a small kitchen, a bar counter cluttered with every kind of alcohol imaginable, a wine cooler, a pool table, dart board, and foldable chairs surrounding a glass table. The table had a chess board atop it, with shells and bullet casings used in place of chess pieces differentiated by whether they were live or not.

"What is this place for?"

"You're killin' me, Smalls." Ryuji smacked himself on the forehead upon hearing Saeko's question. "If you've seen a movie that has a room full of high end electronic equipment, it's _obviously_ our base of operations where we collect intel via hacking and keep tabs on our surroundings through cameras. Right now our chore is checking up on other countries' positions, determining authenticity, making some educated guesses about their next play, check on the infected around us for any drastic activity, and provide backup if there's an excursion going down."

Saeko could but blink. "And…..you are going to do all of that? On your own?"

"There's a limit to how much I can multitask, but yeah. Everyone else can, to varying degrees. And you need to be able to do this too."

Listening to all this was enough to make Saeko lose consciousness again. There were multiple screens, external HDDs and keyboards. Ryuji eyes and hands began to move at a pace that no man should ever be able to, with the screens changing at erratic paces. "How exactly am I supposed to learn this? I'm not exactly proficient with technology when it comes to….well, whatever _this_ is." One of the screens was nothing but lines upon lines of computer code, which made absolutely no sense to her. In fact, there was barely anything going on that she could comprehend.

"If it means keeping my family safe, I do it. And that is what'll be expected of you." Ryuji shrugged without even glancing back at her and began flipping through a notebook, his gaze alternating between it and a screen with a news feed. "There's only seven of us so we split the work up, but we usually end up doing several chores each. Plus, killing the infected isn't the only kind of war that can be waged. Shit, most of the media's dead. America seems to be doing fine though. Live newsfeed right now is nothing short of a miracle. Either someone's smart enough to lock themselves in somewhere, or there's a crew that's been saved, equipment and all. Either way, we shouldn't have too much of a—-"

The satellite phone began to ring, cutting Ryuji off. He immediately answered. "Yeah?"

 _"_ _Hello? Serzhant?_ " It was Rika.

"Uuuuh, he's actually camping out on the roof of my compound.

 _"_ _I see….and you are?"_

"You probably don't remember me since we only met…twice I think. But I'm an associate of his, that's all you need to know. So? What happened? Mass suicide of government officials?"

Rika groaned on the other side of the phone at the sarcastic comment. _"No. We've been testing if the recent pandemic is the T-Virus and we finally have some results in. It first starts with itchiness, fever, and gradual lack of consciousness, right? We've separated the people that got bitten and observed, but the symptoms are different."_

"Damn. Hang on, lemme get a pen." Sandwiching the phone between his head and shoulder, he took a pen clipped onto the notebook and opened to a clean page. "Continue."

 _"_ _The virus spreads like meningitis and goes for the brain. According to the MRI footage, it's affecting the synapses themselves, especially near the brainstem. After some time the adrenal glands weaken due to blood loss, the brain shuts down, followed by the other internal organs. This is when you're considered clinically dead, but after a while the synapses reboot and makes them act on instinct, but how much deviates. This part is no different from T."_

"Acting on instinct….So the brainstem is the only part that gets rebooted? Nothing in the frontal lobe or anywhere else?"

 _"_ _After it's become necrotic? No. Well, they can still hear, so somewhat, but not really."_

"How about appetite? Those infected by the T-Virus are reduced in a state of perpetual starvation, and does result in cannibalism amongst the infected. Any activity like that?"

 _"_ _We've done tests like that too, but nothing of the sort happened. Not even when they bumped into each other."_

"So that's a big fucking bupkis on the vaccine then?"

 _"_ _Afraid so. We do have vaccines for the T-Virus and other useful recipes, so we're trying, but I don't think we'll get any closer this week."_

"Alright, last question. Any possibilities of mutations? I'd hate to have to take apart another B.O.W."

 _"_ _We haven't seen anything like that happen yet, but I can't give a definite answer to that. None of the BSAA branches came back with a report like that."_

"Well, that's just fucking fine and dandy. So what now?"

 _"_ _I guess I could meet up with Serzhant and your people."_

"If the Far East Branch falls, maybe. But you and you alone. _Budem zdorovy._ "

 _"_ _Poka."_ With that, she hung up.

"What language was that?"

"Russian."

"How many languages can you speak again?"

"Including Japanese and English, let's see, uh, Spanish, Russian, Mandarin, German, and Italian. These are the ones I can speak fluently like a native but I can get by in another half a dozen other languages."

" _How!?_ " Saeko cried.

"Lower your voice, Jesus!" Ryuji hissed, reeling his head back the sudden outburst from the girl. "Look, the first seven I can speak fluently because I live with people who can read, write and speak those languages fluently. We basically taught each other over the years, and for the rest I studied in my spare time. Whoa."

Saeko looked at the screen Ryuji pointed at. The camera feed showed Vector in the back of the compound standing on the two meter tall wall of concrete surrounding the safe house, shooting a crossbow. The camera on the roof showed a high kill count. There were more lying on the pavement in the front. "If splitting chores is how things are done here, I would like to be of some assistance."

Ryuji stared at her hard, scrunching his brows together in a frown. He then stood up and brought one of the foldable chairs next to his own. "Alright. These three screens show live feed of cameras set up around the perimeter of this building. If there's anything wrong, let people know, even if it's a false alarm." Tearing a piece of paper from the notebook, he began scribbling instructions on how to operate the cameras and handed it to her, all while maintaining contact with everyone on watch.

* * *

Saeko kept her eyes on the screens, actively asking questions about everything and anything she needed to know, although mostly bewildered at the complexity of everything. "May I ask you something?"

"Depends on what it's about."

"About your past." Saeko mouthed cautiously, and the hands dancing across the keyboard immediately halted.

"Remember while we were still moving around with Takagi and the others and we stopped near a convenience store for supplies? Takagi wondered why I believe you are worth trusting despite deceiving everyone for over a decade."

"Lying is a thing that people do."

"I am aware. And I consider your falsification of your records as your way of consideration more than anything else. I just thought that I would ask."

"I'll tell you once you're a better shot."

"Fair enough." Before she continued, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that passed the screen. "I think there's something coming this way."

 _"_ _From where? How far? And I need you to be more specific. 'Something' is far from helpful."_ Lupe's voice crackled over the earpiece.

"Right…um…Left side of the building. It's a…." Without any information other than what she saw, Saeko could not give an answer.

"Gimme a minute, mom. Zooming in." Hitting several keys, the camera feed zoomed in, showing three cars driving in a line. "Three sets of wheels tailgating, and three, four, five heat signatures from the first two cars, and four from the last one. They're pretty quiet too. They're driving fucking Priuses. We gotta shoot 'em on principle now."

 _"_ _Anyone else around them?"_

"Oh yeah. Four hundred meters straight from the front of the compound. Two snipers. Bolt action. I can already tell one's a Remington M700. The other is….ah, got it. Accuracy International, AW model. Can't tell the caliber, but it's definitely ones that Vladimir would use."

 _"_ _Copy that. Four hundred meters."_ Karena checked back in less than twenty seconds. _"Done. Ryuji, I need you out there with Vector. Pincer and take them out as quietly as possible. Do_ not _let them fire off a shot. And no firearms or explosives. Period. Oh, and bring the girl with you. Vladimir will take over your spot."_

"Yes ma'am." Pulling his plate carrier on securely, Vladimir came down the stairs with a bag in hand.

"Your Silent Night package." He tossed the bag to Ryuji who caught it and slung it over his shoulder. "Watch yourself out there."

"Thanks." He knocked his knuckles against Vladimir's and opened the window. "Saeko, here's a preview of my past: our routine work." Jumping over the rails of the veranda, he let go and fell backwards.


	27. Earning Stripes

"Shit!" she ran out the window and looked down, but there was no body. Ryuji waved from the veranda of the second floor.

"Tadah! Don't look down if you're scared."

Saeko felt her nostrils flare in anger and annoyance at his antics, reminding her of young pranksters that her friends were laughing their heads off on social media websites. Holding onto the rails, she swung her legs up and onto the other side, her toe ends of her sneakers keeping her steady. She slowly lowered herself and felt a pair of gloved hands wrap around her legs. She felt herself being pulled in as she let go. Repeating the same process once again, they were on the ground.

"You're probably thinking, 'how are we going to take them out?' Just so you know, Vladimir isn't just our resident sniper, but a former member of the KGB, with more knowledge of electronics than anyone I've ever met." As he spoke, he unslung the pack and emptied out the contents: a recurve bow, a quiver full of arrows, his boots and a specially made chest rig holding dozens of knives. He strung the bow quickly and pulled the bowstring back. "The amount of damage he can do with a single iPhone is like watching a VR M.C. Escher artwork being drawn in front of you."

"So….he's going to hack a car?"

 _"_ _ETA is one minute, get ready."_ Vladimir warned them before she got an answer.

"Copy that. Saeko, scale the left wall. Keep your knife hidden and walk towards the cars. Slowly. Vladimir will give you directions. Follow them to the letter."

"Understood." Clambering over the wall, Saeko drew the knife she was given, holding it so it remained hidden in the inside of her arm. The cars came into view as she walked along the wall.

 _"_ _Trainee can you hear me? I will stop the cars soon."_

"Yes sir." She murmured.

 _"_ _In five, four, three, two….stop."_ The lead vehicle suddenly halted, causing the other two to slam down hard on the brakes just in time. In a matter of a few seconds, the men started squabbling. _"Head towards the car. Act surprised. Maybe even a little scared."_

"I've….never done theater before."

 _"_ _Not a discussion. Do it. Convincingly."_

"The fuck is your problem, man?! Why'd you stop?!"

"I didn't do shit! This piece of crap stopped on its own! I _told_ you we shoulda grabbed that Mustang!" The driver kicked the car tire in anger and opened up the hood to look for the problem, with two others huddling next to him."

"Hey." One of them pointed towards Saeko who came into their view. A beautiful, young girl in her teens with the mature charms of an adult. It was more than enough to grab their attention.

 _"_ _If they get close, use the knife."_ As she learned through sparring, a knife had a limited range, even with a long arm, posing a higher risk of getting oneself injured.

"It's alright little lady. We're not bad people." One of them, most likely their leader, closed the gap between them with large strides, but with a slow gait, as if he were enjoying her reaction. He was but only three paces away.

The sweat almost made Saeko drop the knife. She had never let anyone get this close to her in a real fight. One slash, one stab to the right spot, and this man in front of her will die; become a sack of flesh and blood. If not him, then it would be her. This situation where the stakes were high, higher than she had ever experienced, made her lower abdomen tingle with heat.

One step away. As soon as his other foot came out and hit the ground, Saeko swung the knife. The man's throat was sliced open like an envelope, with blood gushing out like water from a fire hydrant. He fell to the ground, unable to register what exactly the girl did to him.

A split second later, two arrows were fired into the others, and a plume of smoke rose. _"Hide behind the telephone pole and put the gas mask on."_ It spread quickly, completely covering the leading car. Sporadic grunts rose from time to time. As the wind carried the smoke away, the men around the cars were covered in multiple stab wounds and lacerations, with knives, arrows and crossbow bolts protruding from them. Others were foaming at the mouth with the whites of their eyes showing, tongue lolling out.

 _"_ _Bandits down. Take anything worth keeping and have our trainee bring them back. Stuff the bodies in the car, and I'll deal with them."_

"Give us a hand over here."

Saeko nearly tripped and fell as she showed herself. "Um…I…I…Ry-ah…" drenched in blood from head to toe, she was hyperventilating in her attempt to utter words.

"Shhh, shhhh, it's okay. It's done now." Ryuji shushed her softly as he held her close. "You did a good job, _really_ good job. The patience, the straight smooth cut, everything." He gave her a kiss and a light nip on her collar bone.

"Did…I?" She gasped, her breathing patterns reverting to normality.

"Oh yeah. Keep the mask on though. Those arrows had ampules on the tip filled with nerve gas made by the KGB and modified by Hector. Breathe in even a fraction and you die. Painfully." Hearing this, Saeko's eyes flew wide open seeing Ryuji without a mask.

"Don't worry. It doesn't work on him." They collected the arrows and knives and raided the trunks of their car filled with various supplies. Hector tossed a duffel bag from the other side of the wall in which they stuffed them all in and Saeko brought them back.

 _"_ _Are you sure you're alright? Let us know if you have a headache, nausea, if you see spots, anything."_

"I'm _fine,_ mom, Jeez." Ryuji laughed. "You're treating me like a china doll after all these years. I'm still breathing, aren't I?"

* * *

"Now then, to important matters: how did they find this place?" Karena broke the silence with a question as everyone sat around the dinner table. Her eyes were thinned, almost into slits.

"Um….That may or may not be my fault." Ryuji raised his hand slowly while scratching his head with the other. "Sorry. When we were heading to the Takagi's place, we ran into some gangsters. Those were probably what's left of them. We mowed them down and jacked their car for efficiency. That car may have been a rental."

"Makes sense, considering gas and electricity is still functional. Rental cars have GPS, it's not that hard to find their location if you know what you're doing. They probably came this way when they saw the other two cars' activity. If you'll excuse me, I still need to move the cars further away." Carrying a smartphone and a tablet under his arm, Vladimir lightly jogged up the stairs.

"Considering how she made the ambush successful, I will overlook your mistake. But in the future, no amateur mistakes like that ever again. _Ever_. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ryuji murmured, his eyes cast down.

"Keep up with her training as well."

" _D'accord._ "

"That's all for now. Post up on the roof. Leave the bow here." Unstringing the bow, he left the quiver full of the retrieved arrows and unstrung the bow, hurrying up the stairs. Saeko followed him, but was stopped by Karena, who pointed at the couch. "You I need to talk to a bit. Sit."

Slowly taking a seat on the couch, Saeko eyed Karena cautiously, who sat down in the easy chair across from her. "What is this about?"

"This is only my personal opinion. You show promise. Some, at least with a knife. With what you saw outside, I'm sure you can deduct by now that Ryuji is…well, different from normal human beings. He is immune to most kinds of bacteria, viruses and venom that we know of so far, so he doesn't get so much as a case of influenza. Anything he's exposed to, he builds antibodies. Also, his healing speed is beyond that of a human being, so unless he is vaporized, he will not die. The only problem is the high immunity makes it hard to anesthetize him, but otherwise his weakness is the same as every other human being, and he feels pain." Seemingly out of nowhere, she produced a tomahawk, a favorite weapon of hers that has saved her and her teammates' lives on many occasions. "Ryuji is _my_ son. We are his fathers, mothers, uncles, aunts, brothers, and sisters. If you hurt him, you die. If you are the cause of his pain, you die. Betray us, you die. Slow us down, you die; in ways that you didn't think were possible until it happens, and we will throw you to the infected."

"Should it come to that, then so be it. I consider myself to be his already." Saeko showed the bite mark that he left on her neck, keeping her eyes on Karena. Karena returned the unblinking gaze as well, searching in the depths of her eyes for even an inkling of deceit, duplicity of some kind. But there was none.

"Very well. Then as a ritualistic vow of sorts, drink this. In one go." She set a shot glass down in front of Saeko and poured a liquid with a pale green tint to it all the way to the brim.

Saeko had little to no knowledge about liquor brands, but the number she caught a glimpse of was enough to tell her that this was something with a high concentration of alcohol. In order to not taste it as much as possible, she downed the entire glass and keeping the liquid away from her tongue. The second she put it to her lips, the burn spread through her mouth, down her throat and into her stomach as if she took a large bite out of a ghost pepper. She fought the coughing fit to steady her breath for several minutes, which Karena stared at for several minutes with an amused look on her face before fetching a glass of water. "What…was that…?" She asked through sips.

"Absinthe. I'm surprised you're still conscious after that. This one is seventy two percent alcohol, so it usually would make a lightweight such as yourself keel over within an hour." Saeko groaned at the persisting burning sensation inside her, now coupled with a skull-shattering headache, vertigo and nausea. Unable to walk properly, she resorted to advancing up the stairs on all fours, clinging to the railings every now and then in a futile attempt to get back up on her feet. "Vector, I know you're there. Eavesdropping is bad manners."

Vector emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of green tea in hand. "You knew because I let you, you know that right?"

"Of course."

He took a swig before continuing, "She did well for her first try."

"Now she needs to be a better shot, according to the bar you set?"

"Even then she's only half way. And I must say, you've gotten….softer."

"Come again?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, I mean you're more….willing to accept having other people's presence."

"You do not approve?"

"Just an observation. It's not something you would have done in the past, at least not readily. Newness and change is important to accept. Just be careful. We are as strong as our weakest link. Ryuji." He took another swig before continuing slowly, "I don't doubt his skills, considering everything we taught him, but even we can't beat the passage of time, especially you. You're fifty already. If anything would happen to you, Ryuji will lose himself, and vice versa. Either way, it's only a matter of time until whoever's left of us collapses and dies after either one of you. Just don't forget that."


	28. Fear & Will

Saeko collapsed as soon as she reached the second floor, unable to even move after the high concentration of alcohol that had entered her system. The nausea and dizziness was unbearable.

"Oh my goodness! Your face is like a tomato! Are you alright?" The door to Michaela's door swung open, and Shizuka dressed in sweatpants and an XL-size t-shirt rushed to her aid.

Michaela, who was dressed in a more revealing attire of hot pants and a tank top, placed a finger on her neck and a palm on her forehead. "No worries. She's just drunk. You smell that on her breath? That's absinthe, which I'm guessing Karena gave to her. There's a can of tomato juice and water in the fridge in my room. Fetch those for me."

"Right." She rushed back and returned with the two things. Michaela alternated between the two beverages, giving small sips of it at a time and carried her to the couch in the living room. "Is it normal to be this hammered after just one drink?"

"If it's absinthe, yes. It'll make a tequila with lime seem like kahlua milk. The weakest one is seventy-percent alcohol. Even if you water it down, it will hit you hard. Now that she's….well, indisposed, we can move on to the next stage. Let's see how she does against psychological warfare." Michaela's lips curled into the smile of a mischievous prankster, albeit a bone-chilling evil one.

* * *

Saeko's eyes snapped open as she turned frantically to check her surroundings, only to be stopped by the pain ringing in her head like church bells. She tried standing up, but they did not move. They did, but not separately. It was the same with her legs as well. They were bound together. And she could not see a thing. The intensifying humidity of her face made her realize there was a bag over her head. A small alarm was blaring in the back of her head, telling her to struggle, to fight, to run, something.

"Great, you're awake." She felt the bag being lifted off, but was still unable to see due to a blindfold. Even her hearing was fuzzy. "You took your time waking up after going out for three days. Guess you've never really played around with narcotics before."

Saeko tried to speak, but could only utter incoherent mumbles. Her tongue felt numb.

"Oh, by the way," the voice continued, "since you took your sweet sweet time to wake up, I had to….entertain myself with your male compatriot." The blindfold came off, and from behind, a gloved hand showed her the screen of a tablet. She scrunched her face at the sudden exposure to light. As her eyes adjusted, a cold hand grasped her heart. After several gasps of air, she screamed in horror as tears came tumbling from her eyes.

It was a half-naked man with a blood-soaked bag over his head, his outstretched arms and legs restrained and covered in every kind of wound imaginable. Much of it was festering. His hands were utterly broken, with both pinkies and thumbs flayed, shards of bone sticking out from the skin, missing nails, fingers, and toothpicks piercing the palm. The feet had holes in them with the drill bits still embedded in the flesh, and his ankles were charred black. And the right side of his chest had an all too familiar tattoo of the Roman numeral seven.

"No," she sobbed. "No no no no no, please….please let him go…." She tried to close her eyes and turn her head, but a vice-like grip of her head kept her eyes focused on the screen as the torture continued. Every hellish spectacle made her scream, sob, vomit, and scream all over again.

"I always start with the mind. Slooowly apply the pressure. You would be surprised how resilient a person can be. Despite how fucked up he looks, he's still breathing. But all it takes is a single push through the oblivion that is death's door. Let's see how long you can last, shall we?" There was the sound of a match striking, and Saeko sensed a strange aroma. A mix of what seems to be fresh parsley, coconut oil and chocolate. Soon she felt her consciousness sink into a deeper pit of darkness darker than the room she was in.

A familiar ceiling appeared within her sight as she opened her eyes. She was lying on the couch in the living room of the safe house, shirt drenched in sweat and forming a large puddle on the couch. "What the…..?" But the safe house was in ruins as if a hurricane had blown past it. Windows were shattered, half of the roof was gone, walls and ceilings were punctured with holes from debris. Everything was utterly destroyed.

This could not be real. Clearly remembering inhaling some drug, some hallucinogen before passing out, the only explanation was that this is a dream. A sick, twisted and utterly fucked up dream. Repeating that as if it were a prayer, she picked up the sword laying on the ground, the Murata blade.

 _"_ _Enjoying yourself?"_ The fuzzy voice echoed. There was nobody around, but the voice was loud and crackled with static. _"Fear is what clouds your judgement, even drive you mad. Show me who you are, little girl."_

Saeko let a long, shuddering sigh escape. This was the first time in a long while Saeko felt true, murderous rage. If she ever found who this was, she would carve him up and feed him to the infected while he was still alive. With a bang, she suddenly felt a searing pain shoot through her left shoulder. The sound was something now all too familiar to her: a gunshot. She writhed on the floor as she gritted her teeth. The shot came from behind. Turning her head, she gripped the sword tightly to face her foe.

It was Ryuji. He had just tossed an empty gun to the side and was armed with a sword of his own as well. He was shirtless but instead was covered in bandages with blood seeping through it. His cargo pants were caked with dried blood, the sandy colored fabric now blackish red.

Saeko blinked, the sword almost sliding out of her hand at the realization that _he_ was the one that had just shot her from behind. Even now, he was charging at her, sword in hand. The silver lining was that her dominant arm was still functional. Pushing him back with a yell, she stood up, only to be barraged by a series of quick thrusts followed by an upward slash. Two of the thrusts caught her just below the eye and the earlobe. She lapped it up with the tip of her tongue as if it were a glob of honey.

Strangely enough, her head was clear despite the pain, and her heart leapt with joy as their blades clashed. The strong stench of blood didn't bother her as much anymore.

She had practiced with real swords but only ever sparred with them about half a dozen times in her entire life and all of them were "staged", going through a predetermined set of motions. But this….this was different. She felt her nether regions heating up at the desperate need to slake her lust for carnage.

Without realizing it, Saeko began giggling like a little girl, the sword now no heavier than a feather duster as she swung. " _YES!"_ She screamed, but her look of joy soon turned to a horrified realization as Ryuji's head fell hard and rolled across the floor.

Saeko's blood froze. The ecstasy washed away like a sand castle in the waves. The sword clattered to the floor as she realized what she had done, and to whom. Her heartbeat was going haywire. No, no, no, no, no. This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream this is a dream this is a dream wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wakeup wakeup….

Everything stopped. The daggers of pain caused by her heart stopped. Or rather, was stopped by a sword plunging through her heart from behind. "I warned you," a raspy woman's voice fell on her ears, "and this is the price you pay."


	29. Taming The Dog

**Author's note:** So very sorry for the super long hiatus. I just lost the will to continue and was working on a bunch of other things as well. This episode gets a little smutty, just so you know. Enjoy.

* * *

Saeko awoke with a start, her heart racing, patting herself all over her body and scanning the area frantically like a character from a horror movie. The room was undisturbed, the electricity still functional with the air conditioner giving off a light hum. She was back in Ryuji's room.

"Great, you're awake." Ryuji chuckled. He was wearing an apron and had a platter with a glass of green tea and a small steaming pot of egg congee in his hands. Shizuka was sitting next to the bed with a fresh change of clothes.

Saeko flung the blanket off and tackled him with an embrace, crying her eyes out and nearly knocking the pot out of his hands and on to him. "I-I…watched you get tortured…..a-an-and I _killed_ you…Oh god, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…" her words were lost in tears again. Her tears and snot left stains all over his shirt, but she didn't care. Saeko sobbed into his chest, taking deep breaths of his scent in, hugging him close as if to ascertain he was not just another figment of her imagination or a drug-induced hallucination.

"Shhh, shhhh, it's okay, it's okay." He whispered, planting soft pecks on her face. He took her hand and pressed it against his face, allowing her to feel his warmth and confirm that the nightmare within a nightmare was now truly over. "I'm alive. I'm right here." He continued kissing her, this time the palm and the fingertips. After several kisses on her lips and soft fondling, she finally calmed down.

Shizuka handed her a box of tissues to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Thank you." Saeko apologized as she accepted the tissues and sat in front of the pot. The smell of bonito broth made her stomach rumble, complaining to hurry up.

"It's fine. You weren't as bad as others I've seen that have gone through similar methods."

"How long was I unconscious? And what exactly was I administered?"

"You were out for 48 hours." Shizuka answered.

"And that was a cocktail of drugs which is a pretty lengthy list that you do not want to hear. But long story short, it brings out your innermost fears, and makes you experience it in the worst way possible."

So that's what those hallucinations meant. But thinking back on it, it made sense. She was afraid of herself, her blinding lust for blood, and its volatile nature when it sets in.

"I did ask Michaela to lower the dosage and dilute the solution since it's your first time. She did, but only by a tenth of what I asked. It was strong enough to easily kill you through shock or cardiac arrest or turn you into a vegetable. You actually survived, and you're conscious, so congratulations. I'm actually impressed."

"Thank you….I guess." Saeko took the spoon in her hand, but she was forced to use both hands to keep it from slipping out of her fingers.

"Oh, yeah, there are temporary side effects, one of them being general fatigue, some numbness and slowed reaction time, but you're athletic so you should be fine after a day or so." Taking the spoon from her, he dipped it into the pot and held it out to her. Saeko chewed on her lower lip, apprehensive at being spoon fed _literally like an infant_ , but her stomach that had been empty for the last two days continued to growl louder, compelling her to swallow the congee along with her pride.

"So, what exactly did you see?"

After a long pause chewing on her lip, she sighed. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"We won't force you, but it's easier to process when you just talk about it in my experience."

"Woman," Ryuji said as he shook his head in disappointment at her lack of confidence in him, "I've lived the mercenary life since I could remember, a long chapter that involves bio-organic weapons and an even longer one as a freelancer. I've seen so much fucked up shit in my life, I promise nothing you say can offend me or freak me out."

"It's….well, I..." Saeko started fidgeting around, the images of his torture, the pain she suffered, everything still freshly emblazoned in her mind.

"It's okay, take your time." Shizuka assured her softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I saw you….being tortured."

"Oh, really?" He was unimpressed. "I've been tortured before. I'm basically Deadpool minus the cancer, and it hurts, but that's basically it. It wasn't as bad as drills that Michaela put us through periodically. I mean, the worst I had was getting my leg stung by desert scorpions. _That_ was hell. Was that it?"

"No. I was….also tortured. I don't remember much about that. And then, there was a part where we were fighting. Trying to kill each other. I killed you. Drunk on bloodlust, I killed you. Took your head off."

"Oh. Wow, okay. I stand corrected. Damn. Me getting killed, huh? Well it's not impossible."

"But….what does it mean?"

"I'm not the one with a PhD in psychology. Or a medical degree for that matter. Nurse? Any professional input you can squeeze in?"

"Mmmm….not really, actually." Shizuka said with a frown. "I didn't go through all the training to do therapy to get my degree, so….but, I can assume that your fear is loss of self-control. It's….basically your psychological crutch."

"That doesn't sound too far off the mark." Saeko admitted, accepting another spoonful of congee in her mouth. "Mm….this is…good. Who made this?"

"Me. You're welcome, by the way." Ryuji winked.

"I never knew you were good at cooking." She commented as she ate. There was a hint of ground ginger in it that pricked her tongue every now and then.

"I picked up after mom, Vector and Michaela. Everyone else can do basic stuff every now and then, but sometimes basic doesn't cut it. We like our fancy home cooked meals as much as we do fancy restaurant-served ones."

"You learned from them?"

"And Gordon Ramsay, yeah."

"Who's Gordon Ramsay?"

"He—-" Ryuji stopped himself, completely forgetting that overseas subculture is not something Saeko was well-versed in. As a last resort, he turned to Shizuka with a pleading look.

"I don't know either."

"Goddammit….I swear, I need to get you two up to speed on my references. We're having a Netflix and Youtube marathon when we get back. _And_ I'm going to introduce you to facebook." Once she had finished eating, Ryuji committed to stroking her cheeks, her hair and under her chin. In fact, he heard her purr softly. _Purr,_ like a cat would.

Why did she have to be so damn beautiful and adorable at the same time?

Feeling a switch flip inside himself, Ryuji set the bowl aside and kissed her, pushing her down on the bed. Saeko let out a muffled yelp, but soon gave in, letting his tongue venture in her mouth, his hands gently running along her thighs and braless breasts over the fabric of a loose-fitting tanktop. She even felt a knee gently rubbing against her crotch, two fingers caressing her earlobe. Her hand instinctively reached for his pants, ready to massage his already hardened crotch area.

"You're welcome to join too, you know?" Ryuji said as he sat upright on his knees with an inviting glance towards Shizuka, a naughty grin spreading on his face.

"Wha….I….um….." Shizuka's face rapidly went red as she continued to stammer incoherently.

"Saeko, you wouldn't mind sharing, would you?"

"Not at all. He is quite skilled."

"Ummm….okay, just a little bit though. I do have a roommate that's also….well, we're kind of….friends with benefits, and she says it's okay, but, you know, considering this situation we're in…" She continued to go on and on, but Ryuji silenced her lips with his fingers.

"Okay, I got it. You're welcome to stop me any time." They may have roughly a decade-wide age gap, but Shizuka did find him attractive. Not that she would have acted on it, but now, without any social inhibitors, it felt bizarre, but in a good kind of way.

"This feels kinda weird, doing it with a student…" Shizuka whispered as she sat down next to him, her eyes trying desperately not to meet the former student's gaze.

"What, does it remind you of a porno flick you saw?" Shizuka couldn't help but laugh at that, but it was a nervous laugh, because he was right on the money. He definitely knew that, because the grin only widened some more.

They started taking tentative pecks at each other's face; the nose, brow line, and above the clavicle. But within a minute, their lips met, and their heat immediately began rising. One hand traveled along her spine and lost itself in her long blonde hair while the other hovered around her navel, tickling her with his fingertips. After a full minute, they separated.

"Whoa…..Best kiss ever, I think."

"My my. You, nurse, are very good at twirling your tongue around."

"Ahem." Saeko tugged at his shirt and cleared her throat. "I believe I require some attention as well."

"True, you _are_ the patient here."

"Knock knock," Michaela chimed as she poked her head in through the door and saw Saeko and Ryuji mid-kiss while Shizuka sat beside them. "Oh….well, then."

"Seriously? Now? You're doing this to me now?" Ryuji peeled his lips off of her, growling as he glared at Michaela with a devilish grin.

"I could say the same to you. Let her _recover_ , for crying out loud. And stop seducing my student, horn-dog."

" _It's just kissing_ , you Aryan cock-blocker. Do you see any coitus happening right now?"

"The way you kiss is far superior to plain sex, and I know you know that. You also have chores to do. Make your rounds outside with Vladimir. Take her with you too, just for a quick rehab. Also, I don't mind you employing the carrot and stick method, but make sure you apply the stick part as well. And I don't mean your cock."

"Alright, _fine_! Jeez."

"Good. You have fifteen minutes. Also, I have something for your sweetheart." As Michaela revealed herself in the doorway, she held out the sword Vector had confiscated from Saeko. "You owe me big for this. I'm giving this to you only because I won a bet with Vector, and if you want to keep this, you're going to have to work for it. This is a loan and not a transferal. Not yet, at least. Understood?"

"Yes. Thank you very much." Saeko sighed silently as she ran her hands across the length of the beautifully crafted blade which had very quickly become an extension of herself like a limb. With it, she felt…..complete again.

Vladimir was already waiting downstairs calibrating his goggles. "My turn for a run now, hm. Reminds me of the KGB and FSB lapdog days. Karena, what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Here's the list. If you need anything else, you are free to take them, but the items on the list take priority. Beltway will take point from here. Take the car our ignorant former attackers were using." The dinner table had an assortment of weapons laid out, ready for use. Vladimir was fitting a Springfield M1A1 with a high power scope and the included bayonet along with his side arm H&K pistol with a suppressor and several magazines of ammunition.

"Wait, how's the stack gonna work?"

"Arrowhead form. You'll be on either edge."

Ryuji frowned at Vladimir's words and looked towards his mother for support, but she shook her head silently. "Oh, fine. Be that way." Choosing the P-14 as his side arm along with accessories and extra ammunition, he picked up a quiver full of carbon fiber arrows and a compound bow.

Saeko frowned as she stared hard at the weapons lined up on the table. Considering the laws in Japan, barely a handful of civilians come across the opportunity to fire a gun, let alone touch one. She herself was finally getting used to the M37 revolver, but as for the criteria to choose a weapon, she was utterly clueless.

"Here, take this one." Ryuji snapped a Beretta up, fitted it with a light and laser pointer and loaded a round into the chamber before handing it to her. "Beretta 92FS. One of the easiest semi-automatic handguns to use in the market. Keep the revolver holstered until you lose gun itself or run out. And make sure you don't toss the mags, okay?"

"Understood."

Once the run-team had prepared to depart, they embraced the ones staying behind and set off. They were in luck. Due to the cacophony going on elsewhere, the herd of infected was thin, enough to ram through with a car. "Ryuji, you drive." Vladimir whispered.

"I thought you'd never ask."

"I would like to call shotgun." Saeko muttered into her earpiece.

"And so you have." Getting into the car left outside the safe house, Vladimir opened the sunroof from the back seat, serving as the lookout while Ryuji drove. The car violently rattled as it ran over the infected, creating a staccato of squelching and snapping sounds.

"Your mother mentioned something about a stack and an arrowhead. What does that mean?"

"Standard formation of a three-person team. You make a triangle, hence arrowhead. Person in the front is the person taking point. That's you. Vladimir and I will be behind you, covering your blind spots and our six."

Hector's voice crackled over the man-pack radio Vladimir had on his back which he then relayed to Ryuji, shifting course as needed. "This car is absolute shit." Vladimir grumbled.

"It's a hybrid car, it's made to be efficient so horsepower is the last thing to expect from this thing. Plus it's not stick."

 _"Oye muchachos, you're almost there. Take a left, one click ahead."_ As the car swung around the corner, the shopping mall that the Wolfpack landed the helicopter on came into view.

"Wait, you guys landed _here?_ "

"You'd be surprised to see the stuff they have here. They have a DIY store, sports equipment, wood, power tools, and so on. Hector, anyone in there?"

 _"Oh yeah. I'm seeing….ten, no eleven heat signatures. Ooh, one of them's a cop in uniform. Aside from her there's only two people who have anything remotely resembling a weapon. But they should be smart enough to pick something up somewhere."_

Parking the car near the emergency exit, Ryuji ushered Saeko out, signaling her to wait at the top of the stairs.

"What's the play then?" Vladimir asked over the radio once he confirmed Saeko was out of earshot.

 _"Vladimir, have our new girl clear the place."_ Karena's voice cut in. _"She needs to accustom herself as quickly as possible."_

"And so we shall. She's taking point so this should be a good field test."

"I'll convince her, she'll listen to me. If not….well, there's some things that she likes that I can postpone."

 _"Try not to take too many chances. You are only very hard to kill, not invincible."_

" _D'accord._ I'll call you when we're about to leave. Over and out." Getting out of the car, they caught up with Saeko who was waiting outside the doorway, Glock in hand. Although still stiff, she silently signaled the back of the door and the vicinity of the entrance is clear. "Vladimir, what's on the list?"

"Some toiletries, medication, a lot of bandages, carbon fiber arrows and bowstrings, portable stoves and gas canisters, wires, rope, toothbrushes, air duster, oil spray, grease, stain remover, and chemical fertilizer. An oddly specific order for brand and maker, I might add."

"Fertilizer?" Saeko frowned in confusion.

"Oh yeah, uh, that's for Hector. It depends on the type, but most chemical fertilizers have ammonium nitrate in it. Mix that with fuel oil, and you got yourself an instant explosive. Nitromethane makes the best kind, to be more specific, with a 4:6 ratio. Prep it with a primer, and it does depend on how much but it should be enough to blow a car to pieces. You can also make napalm from a mixture of styrofoam with soap and lighter fluid."

"….I see…" That was all she could manage.

"Ah, never mind. I forgot. You're more of a humanities person. Your expectations for yourself are too damn high for the math and science." With a slightly mean grin, Saeko turned away with a pouty face. It was true. While she is under no means a simpleton, chemistry was not a subject she excelled at. "Oh….Saeko, heads up. Twelve o'clock. Knife in left."

Immediately responding to his voice, Saeko's fingers tightened around the knife hilt and Glock. A young woman in uniform, a police officer, stood a dozen or so meters away, and spotted Saeko while Ryuji and Vladimir stayed out of sight around the corner. Holding her hands up to show she meant no harm, the officer tried to communicate. "It's….It's okay! I'm a police officer, you're safe here! My senior's gone off to get help so just――" Her words were cut off as her eyes rolled in their sockets and she slumped to the floor.

The air behind her shimmered as Ryuji materialized seemingly out of nowhere with a sigh loud enough for Saeko to hear. Placing his right hand on the officer's left cheek and left hand on the right side of her head, he twisted the head, hard. With a snap like a dead branch breaking, the officer was dead.

"Ryuji, what did Karena say about maintaining formation?"

"The hell was I supposed to do?" Ryuji raised his tone slightly, clearly offended by Vladimir's rebuke. "Saeko showed no indication of shooting her even remotely. Even without the gun, with a guard that low, she coulda gotten close enough to cut her down with a knife or her sword but noooooo. She fucking hesitated." Taking the cuffs, baton and gun from the deceased officer's utility belt, he hoisted the body up onto his shoulders like a bale of hay and returned in about three minutes.

"You do realize that she has never killed anything aside from moving corpses, right?" Vladimir asked as he inspected the condition of the weapons they had commandeered.

"Of course," Ryuji snorted, and immediately turned around to face Saeko, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. "I told you before: I like my women strong, spontaneous and without hesitation. Your performance before we reached the safe house…that was the kind incredible woman I saw. What happened? If you can't do what's necessary when it counts, you put everyone at risk."

Although she did her best to not give away that she was in pain, Saeko let out a small whimper as the pressure in her shoulder increased.

"Anyone like I saw just now has no place with us. I don't want to have to clean up another woman's body." Unlike at the safe house, Saeko did not feel goosebumps on her skin. Instead, the threatening whisper made her shudder and break out in a cold sweat. Her throat closed up. Ryuji's face was covered by the gasmask but this one time Saeko was glad for it. If she had seen his face now, she was sure that the fear radiating from the expression would stop her heart. "This is your only warning."


End file.
